


sanctuary

by rineolus



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-19 02:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10630005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rineolus/pseuds/rineolus
Summary: "The moment I saw the way you looked at me that night, I thought just for once, I will let go. Just for once, I will let everything crumble and let myself fall in that scary pit of uncertainty I called my best friend. Just for once, I let my broken heart take control of me."





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The moment I saw the way you looked at me that night, I thought just for once, I will let go. Just for once, I will let everything crumble and let myself fall in that scary pit of uncertainty I called my best friend. Just for once, I let my broken heart take control of me."

**Title** : sanctuary  
**# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
**Word Count** : 24, 045  
**Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
**Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
**Rating** : PG  
**Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
**Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
**A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)  


_ Prologue: Crimson _

Twelve Forty One AM. He wasn’t really sure if he should call it a Sunday or a Saturday – he was too tired to care. Minseok, his co-worker, called in sick for the night and he really didn’t have much choice but to work double shifts. More money for him, he thought. He really wasn’t sure if it really was worth it though. One of their managers, Junmyeon, once told him that almost all of the money he earned from overtime usually just went to tax. He just sighed, like he had a choice. Everybody had something else better to do on a Saturday night. Chanyeol didn’t really have a life outside other than his job at a tacky comic book shop, his university, and the four corners for his room – sometimes the kitchen too when he felt like setting something on fire and triggering the smoke alarm. He got banned from the kitchen after the third time the fire fighters came to the driveway of their apartment. Third time was the charm.  
  
Chanyeol lazily swiped his keycard on the slot right beside the pin pad on the door. Technology really was glorious; he had problems with locks and keys. It was really bad. He once locked himself out of their house when he was about fifteen. For some apparent mysterious reasons, his keys weren’t working, only to figure out the next day that the door was unlocked. His mother just laughed while his father almost beat him up with the morning newspaper.  
  
 “I have no idea how are you your class’ valedictorian. You’re kind of dumb you know?” His older sister even added, laughing behind her geometry textbook.  
  
The apartment was filled with darkness like he expected it to be. His roommate shouldn’t be home until around the same time the next day. The boy said he was spending the night at his boyfriend’s house – for a surprise on their second anniversary. Chanyeol just shrugged as the boy bounced towards the door, innocent smile taped on his lips, off to somewhere around the Myeongdong district.  
  
He wouldn’t even think of turning the lights on. He would just rely on the light that his barely functioning phone to lead him to his room if his stomach just didn’t make that creepy and disgusting sound signalling that it wants something. Desperately, he started touching the walls, hoping that at some point he would find the light switch. It took him about three minutes; the longest three minutes of his life. He really was kind of dumb.  
  
The light from the kitchen blinded him. It was like one of those mornings when his awfully-fucked-up-of-a-roommate would open the blinds wide enough for him to get a punch in the face from the morning sun. It took him a while and a few eye rubs to adjust and notice something very unusual under their kitchen table. He was pretty sure they didn’t have any pets of any sort. Pets also don’t grow almost six foot tall, unless it was a fucking Chupacabra. He had read about it out of boredom, it was the one of the biggest mistakes of his life.  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes roamed around the room, there were clutter everywhere. A total living and breathing man cave, yet he couldn’t find anything of reach that he could use to at least smack the Chupacabra in the head or maybe break one of its nails and make it go home, crying. He just gave up and settled with a random garlic clove lying on the floor. Maybe Chupacabras were also scared of garlic? Like vampires? He had also read about those. He usually would usually spend his free time leeching off the internet for random information. He once spent a whole seven hours in front of his laptop, just randomly searching for whatever came up in his head. He even found himself typing _turkey foot_ in the _search images_ page of google. It was rather amusing and it made Chanyeol somehow start re-evaluating his life’s decisions.  
With eyes focused on his target, or maybe his predator, he adjusted the hood of his gray jacket and walked closer to it. The Chupacabra was a little too scrawny and a little too bony than what he expected it to be. It also had milky white skin and a familiar mop of brown hair.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
The Chupacabra groined when he shook its shoulder. The creature reeked of a mix of soju and kimchi. He scrunched his nose as he pulled it on a chair.  
  
 “Sehun-ah?” He tapped the boy’s flushed cheek.  
  
Chanyeol couldn’t say he had never seen his roommate drunk. He was always the boy’s designated driver whenever they would go to parties or just randomly decide to pour alcohol in their brains and be their drunken selves. Sehun would usually be very chirpy and very clingy when he was drunk. The boy even once strip-teased in the middle of the street on a winter night – he said he was just too happy thathe had to strip. Chanyeol just threw his coat over the younger’s shoulder as Kyungsoo frantically started picking up the boy’s underwear, Jongdae just lost himself laughing as he walked into a pole.  
  
“Sehun-ah?” His hand rested on the boy’s cheek, tear stains were visible.  
  
Sehun wasn’t just drunk. Drunken Sehun would walk around naked on a winter night. Drunken Sehun would never cry, unless he was laughing so hard because Minseok almost lost a limb when he fell into a ditch. Sehun wasn’t just drunk that night, he was broken.  
  
“Sehun-ah? Are you okay?” He petted the boy’s cheek, like he would a hurt kitten. He almost got his hand bitten off. “What the fuck?”  
  
The boy just looked at him with his sleepy eyes; clouded with emotions Chanyeol had never seen his entire life. Sehun’s eyes looked lifeless, it made him cringe.  
  
“Hyung, why are you holding garlic?” The younger groined, voice cracked, probably from too much crying.  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes switched to the boy, and then to his left hand, and then back to the boy again. He really should start re-evaluating his life. He really was starting to doubt his own sanity. Something his friends had started doing quite a long time ago.  
  
“I thought you were a Chupacabra.” He sheepishly replied.  
  
Sehun snickered, bitterness written all over it. “Nice choice of self-defense.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Chanyeol started cleaning up the mess on the table that he failed to notice because of his fascination about seeing a Chupacabra in real life. There were about twelve empty bottles of soju, minus the broken ones right beside the stove. There was also an empty bowl of kimchi that Chanyeol’s sister brought over when she went to Seoul for a visit. He wondered how long had Sehun been drinking.

He switched his attention back to the boy. His swollen eyes were about to burst into tears. It pierced Chanyeol’s heart. The word _pierce_ got a little too ironic when he noticed what the boy was about to do.  
  
With a piece of broken glass in hand, the boy was about to make a cut on his wrist. Crimson liquid started dripping on the floor as the boy tried to make the cut deep enough to make time stop ticking for him. Everything suddenly became irrelevant. Every breathe he took suddenly became useless.  
  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Chanyeol was furious as he ran towards the younger and yanked the shard of glass off his hand, making his own bleed. He winced but the blood that was seeping through the towel he grabbed to cover the boys wound was more important. Chanyeol would thank Kyungsoo later for dragging him into that first aid class a few summers back.  
  
“Fuck Sehun. What the hell are you thinking?!” He mumbled as he wrapped thick gauze around the boy’s wrist. The bleeding had already stopped but the cut would definitely leave a mark. It wasn’t deep enough neither to damage anything, nor to require stitches. Yet he knew that the cut his friend had in his heart was deeper than any wound a shard of glass could do.  
  
“Sehun-ah.” He nudged the boy after finally managing to settle the younger in his bed. “What happened?”  
The question was left hanging for about ten minutes. Chanyeol was about to give up and probably leave the boy for a while and give him time to think.  
  
“Hyung. Stay. Please.” Three words, it broke Chanyeol’s heart. Sehun had always been a very adorable kid. Being the youngest in their group; he always got what he wanted. It was very rare to see the boy moping over something; except for that math test he failed so badly that he had to take summer classes. But that night, the Sehun he saw was not the Sehun he grew up with. It was a Sehun he hadn’t seen before. It was a Sehun that he would really rather not meet at all. It was a broken Sehun.  
  
“Shhh.. “ He whispered and took the empty space on the boy’s bed. “Hyung is here okay? Hyung will never leave you.” He added and wrapped his arms around the shivering boy. He almost felt like Sehun would fall into tiny pieces with just one touch. The younger felt too vulnerable. “You need to tell me what happened though. So Hyung can help you. I want to help you.”  
  
Sehun’s tears started rolling once more. Maybe he shouldn’t really ask anymore? Maybe he should just leave the matter alone? Maybe he should call Kyungsoo, he had always been better at talking than him? Maybe Jongdae could trick Sehun into talking? Maybe also making the boy laugh in the process? Maybe he should get some bubble tea? Sehun loved bubble tea. But it was two o’clock in the morning, bubble tea shops were closed. Maybe he should call Luh-  
  
“I caught Luhan making out with Kris.”  
  
His lips formed an _O_. Fire started burning inside him, smoldering every bit of fondness he had for the Chinese boy they met in a bar one night. He had always known that Luhan wasn’t the type that would stay in a relationship longer than a few weeks of flirting; leaving the whole university in shock when the _HunHan couple_ lasted a year, though he had never expected that the elder was capable of doing such. Chanyeol wanted to bury his fist in the elder’s face.  
  
“Hyung please don’t.” It was as if Sehun could read his mind.  
  
“But he deserves it-“  
  
“Please.” The younger shifted his gaze at him, eyes pleading yet still void of any emotions. “Just .. just stay with me. I’m fine now. I’m gonna be okay. Just stay with me.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes. Thank you though.”  
  
With eyes locked on the younger, Chanyeol’s mind suddenly went on cool down. His heart took over. He leaned towards the boy and the next thing he knew, their lips were connected in a sloppy, yet very careful kiss. He was still afraid that the boy might break under his touch. It was that night when the unexpected happened. It was that night when inhibitions were all forgotten. It was that night when old, long hidden feelings were unintentionally released. It was that night when the Park Chanyeol woke up the next morning with his unclothed best friend in his arms. It was that night when Oh Sehun woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, sharp pain flowing from his wrist up his whole being, barely any memories of what happened the past night, and a dumbfounded giant named Park Chanyeol on the foot of his bed.  
  
“Good morning.” He muttered before the elder hauled himself out of the room, leaving a confused sober Sehun still naked in his bed.

****

  
[>>](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12462.html)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<<](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12263.html)

_Chapter I: Autobiography_

“Wait what happened to my kitchen?”   
  
“Sehun broke the table.”   
  
“Excuse me?!”   
  
“I had sex on the kitchen table with a guy, I think his name Jaejin or something, and I broke it. Happy now?”   
  
“That’s fucking disgusting.” Jongdae commented as he munched on his French fry. “I am eating here.”   
  
“It didn’t seem to bother you when I caught you watching porn while eating a bowl of cheerios.” Sehun paused, smirk slowly curving his thin lips. “At six o’clock in the morning.”   
  
“Porn for breakfast, I see. I am totally judging you right now Kim Jongdae.” Minseok – Chanyeol’s coworker and childhood friend; an older boy with puffy cheeks and chinky eyes – who suddenly popped out of nowhere butted in.   
  
“That was a project for my humanities class.”   
  
“You’re majoring in music Kim Jongdae. You don’t take humanities.” Chanyeol stole a chip from Sehun’s bag. The younger swatted his hand but not fast enough to keep him from committing his crime. He just grinned at the boy as the younger pushed his food away from the hungry giant beside him. They both knew that Chanyeol would just leech off Sehun’s lunch. It was an every day event.   
  
“Fuck you all.” Jonghae muttered.   
  
“Sure. When?” Sehun blatantly asked, making the whole table laugh, except for one – Kyungsoo. The man had his eyebrow so high it almost reached his hairline. His naturally big round eyes looked like they were going to explode. His ears were red and everybody knew what that meant. Chanyeol had seen it before, quite a few times actually.   
  
First was when Chanyeol set the kitchen on fire trying to make some ramen in the middle of the night. Second was when Minseok refused to eat the birthday cake Kyungsoo baked for him because he said he was on a diet. But the worst was when Kyungsoo found out, after hours of torture and blackmails, what exactly happened to Sehun  _that night_ – emitting, of course, the part where Chanyeol took advantage of his drunk and very broken hearted best friend. Even Sehun himself couldn’t remember it happened, so why bother? Chanyeol decided it should just be left that way. Kyungsoo would probably slap him the face so hard, with a spatula, it would bruise. Like what he did to Luhan. Or put some sort of elixir in his food that would make him live in the toilet for about a week and a half, like what  _accidentally_ happened to Kris after a random boy with round eyes and read hair gave him a box of cookies. Angry Do Kyungsoo was very terrifying.   
  
“What happened to  _my_ kitchen and  _my_ table again?!” Kyungsoo’s usually sweet voice rung inside their heads, making the laughter subsides rather quickly. The man didn’t even yell, he just merely asked a question yet everybody fell silent as they formulated the quickest way to escape Kyungsoo’s wrath. Again, an angry Do Kyungsoo is a very terrifying Do Kyungsoo.   
  
Kyungsoo already named the kitchen in Sehun and Chanyeol’s apartment as his own. The two never used it anyway, properly at least. They would always end up calling Kyungsoo, who lived a few floors below them, and ask for some food donations. Both boys were imbecile in the kitchen, barely recognizing the difference between sugar and iodized salt, and somehow always found a way to set something on fire – Kyungsoo once took it as a sign of pyromaniac. Kyungsoo would always find burnt pans and pots hidden either under the sink or the pantry. He even found one in Chanyeol’s closet once; there was also a slice of pizza beside it, providing a very cozy home for what he guessed was a month old of mold. He almost threw up. The two boys thought he wouldn’t notice. After a few months of constant phone calls, elevator rides and occasional walks up a few flights of stairs, it had become a habit for Kyungsoo to cook for the two. He would come over on the weekends, or whenever he was off from his part time job at the bar to cook a few days worth of food and sometimes even cleaning up a little a bit when he felt like it. It was like having a cleaning lady for free, Chanyeol would say. The tall boy got a smack in the head and starved for a week. He also got banned from the kitchen after a few broken smoke alarms and scolding from the fire fighters. Youngwoon was the name of one of them – a bulky guy with a cute eye smile and contagious laugh. They would call him  _hyung_ and they would get a smack on the head. “Don’t get too familiar with me. You boys are still in trouble.” He would say. The elder sent them a fire extinguisher for Christmas. Chanyeol specifically got a small pocketbook with a red cover and bright yellow letters for its title:  _How to not set something on fire._ He never actually thought such book existed, until he noticed the author’s name.  _Kim Youngwoon_ . It made Chanyeol’s Christmas so blissful.   
Oh Sehun wasn’t banned from the kitchen, not yet at least.   
  
“Oh Sehun.” The boy almost choked. “You are not allowed to touch anything in my kitchen anymore. Not even to eat or get anything from the fridge.”   
  
“But hyung-“   
  
“No more buts. You’re not allowed in my kitchen until you buy a new dining table.” Kyungsoo looked at him from head to toe. Sehun suddenly felt so tiny. “Something with a better quality. I prefer veneer top by the way. They look classy.”   
  
“How am I gonna eat then?”   
  
“I don’t know. I don’t really care at the moment. Ask Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo paused. “or Jongdae. He’s always home. He doesn’t have a life.”   
  
Laughter echoed in the cafeteria once more. It seemed like it was Jongdae’s lucky day, getting a taste of his own medicine the whole day. Baekyun snorted his soda out. Sehun was laughing so hard his eyes disappeared into slits while clapping like a lost seal. Jongdae was just pouting with a piece of lettuce sticking out of his mouth. Kyungsoo was still mad yet started snickering after Baekhyun snorted his soda for the second time, liquid landing on Jongdae’s burger. The elder didn’t seem to notice and took another bite. It was hilarious. Chanyeol would also laugh if his mind wasn’t just wandering on its own, thinking about how did the whole ordeal about Sehun even started.   
  
“The pain that I went through, I can’t go through that again. I just can’t.” Sehun’s words were still clear in Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol brought Sehun to the beach a few days after the  _incident_ . He got tired of watching his best friend mope and wallow in his bed, baby sitting his broken heart. The boy needed some fresh air and a shower too. He would probably push the younger into the ocean to rid of the rink caused by not showering for a few days mixed with alcohol, sweat, and kimchi.   
  
No pushing happened.   
  
They just sat on the sand, occasionally wrapping arms around shivering bodies. The heat of the flickering bonfire would have been enough to suppress the cold yet skinship had always been a habit. Stargazing, random overly animated chatting, and listening to the waves became a little too boring after a while. None wanted to go back home. Out of boredom, and curiosity, a question was dropped – baritone voice almost croaking.   
  
“What’s gonna happen now? What do you plan to do after this?”   
  
Dawn broke.   
  
Dark brown hair now blonde, sometimes pink, sometimes silver, one time green – never again said the boy, even multicolored for a about a month and a half. Adorable crescent eyes were replaced with coldness and indifference. The boy that used to dream to be an architect switched to dancing. Shy, quiet boy started sleeping around. It pained Chanyeol yet he knew he couldn’t do much.   
  
He could probably write a whole autobiography about Sehun’s flings. Chanyeol would bet, he talked to those guys more than Sehun did.   
  
Byun Baekhyun was the first. Not exactly Sehun’s type, he was sure of it. The boy was probably just testing the waters. They met at the registrar’s office in their university when Sehun transferred to the performing arts department. Baekhyun was Kyungsoo and Jongdae’s rival for the number one spot in the music department – he found out after asking around about who was this skinny boy with blonde hair and never ending stories. The fling only lasted for a few days. Baekhyun started hanging out with the group and even got a spot at Kyungsoo’s part time job, singing at bar two blocks from their university.   
  
“Awesome! More geeks!” Jongdae exclaimed the first time Byun Baekhyun sat down with them for lunch. He received a smack on the head from Junmyeon accompanied by a “Don’t scare him you idiot!”   
  
There was also a Chinese boy. Huang Zitao was his name. That one had a very innocent face yet bore a pair of very deadly eyes, and a very deadly knowledge in martial arts. Chanyeol experienced it first hand when he came home late from work and he was guessing Tao was on his way out. Sehun never lets anybody sleep over. The boy said it was part of the charm. Chanyeol dislocated his shoulder that night and got a huge bruise on his lower back. He could still feel the pain just by thinking about it. He would still involuntarily flinch whenever he would see the Chinese lurking around their university. The boy would just smile at him, apologetically.   
  
The next was another Chinese. He had seen the elder a few times in their university. Zhang Yixing – one of the top students in the dance department. Nothing really happened between Sehun and Yixing. Chanyeol just found the elder really amusing, worth remembering.   
“Sehun-ah, did you get me my earplugs? I really need to get some sleep tonight. And you gotta stop turning our apartment into a brothel.” Chanyeol yelled while trying to fix the mug he dropped, Kyungsoo would throw him off a cliff if he didn’t, when he heard some shuffling by the door. The next thing he knew, Yixing already went scrambling out of their building. Sehun just kicked his shin and muttered “Fuck you.” They just watched horror movies all night. Chanyeol had to run to the store early in the morning to find a replacement for the mug.   
  
The last one he actually cared about was Kim Jongin, also from the dance department. Chanyeol wasn’t really very fond of the guy at first. He was a little too airy and a little too popular; definitely Sehun’s taste. Jongin was nice though, he was the only one that could match Chanyeol’s hyper activeness. They would usually just start randomly running around and laughing for no apparent reason. After a month, Jongin stopped seeing Sehun and started following Kyungsoo around. Kyungsoo and Jongin had been officially dating for about three months. They make a really good couple. Jongin was totally whipped.   
  
Chanyeol stopped mingling with Sehun’s love affairs. He lost track actually. It was too much. He just gave up.   
  
Sehun would often come home late, either drunk or with different guys, sometimes girls, sometimes both, sometimes a mix of everything. His grades dropped drastically, making him lose his spot in the university’s soccer team as well as the scholarship that came with it. If the boy just wasn’t such an awesome dancer the university would have probably kicked him out after his fifth F. Chanyeol would just sometimes find himself rummaging through Sehun’s desk, looking for untouched homework and unfinished papers. Chanyeol even once just found himself unconsciously spending three hours writing a paper about the history of dance. Park Chanyeol’s major was filmmaking.   
  
Chanyeol just sighed, dark-rimmed spectacles falling on the bridge of his nose. Everybody was still laughing over something he really didn’t have any idea what anymore. He just heard about something Jongdae doing something really devilish, again, to Baekhyun during their rehearsal for the summer musical. The blonde launched himself across the table in attempt to grab Jongdae’s neck but was forcefully pushed back to his chair by Sehun.   
  
“Behave.”   
  
“Get your filthy paw off my face. I will strangle that fucker to death!” Baekhyun warned the boy who didn’t seem to care at all.   
  
“No killing of friends during lunch break.” Junmyeon, one of their seniors smiled as he took a seat beside Jongdae. Junmyeon was also the manager slash owner of the tacky comic book shop Chanyeol worked at. “And no humiliating the group either. Everybody’s looking. You guys are too loud.”   
  
“Buy us a meal and we’ll shut up.” The guy was also stinking rich and would usually buy them a meal once in a while   
  
One o’clock in the afternoon.   
  
Lunch break ended.

******

  
  
[>>](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12718.html)


	3. sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<<](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12462.html)

_Chapter II: Clichés_

“I told you cashews are off limits. I figured you’d still eat some. Epinephrine’s in the drawer under the TV.  Use the green one. Don’t forget to call 119. Please don’t die from anaphylaxis you big ball of idiocy!”

Sehun wanted to grin, if not for the lack of air from his system and the swelling of his lips that was rapidly spreading to his whole body, he would really laugh so hard he would cry. The blue sticky note under the can of cashews that he dropped as soon as his face started itching and his lungs started heaving for air was making his heart flutter and clench at the same time. Maybe it was the anaphylaxis. A familiar, sloppy, penmanship, written in red ink was screaming at his face. It was charming yet painful. Sehun thought it was bittersweet. Maybe it really was the anaphylaxis.

Sehun didn’t laugh, yet tears still started rolling down his cheeks as he stabbed his left arm with the needle. He forgot to call 119. He would live. He knew nobody would care anyway. Kyungsoo would probably strangle him if the elder finds out but didn’t really care. Joonmyun would probably have a heart attack. Jongdae might give him a smack in the head and probably shed some tears over the unused pranks the elder planned for him. He loved his friends yet everything just suddenly became a little bit irrelevant for Oh Sehun. He just wanted to be alone. He was used to it anyway. I mean, how long had it been? Six months? A whole year? Sehun lost count after half a month of finding random sticky notes in _their apartment_ , saving his life quite a few times.

Sehun wanted to laugh once more. _Their apartment._ Too cliché, he thought. He should really start calling that place _his_. He had been living alone for quite a while now. He remembered one of his professors – Kim Heechul – saying that clichés are what ruins a person’s ability to grow. He still thinks that professor Kim is maniac disguised as a professor. The dean, Professor Park (some students call him Leeteuk; Sehun never really figured out why), said Professor Kim was just unique. Sehun thinks those two are together. Another cliché. Sehun finally chuckled. Sehun also once thought two people were together, he regretted it.

Sehun started thinking. What happens after a dose of EpiPen? Drowsiness startwd hitting him. Right. Sleep.

“Don’t forget to go to your room after the shot. Don’t be an idiot and drop dead on the floor. You’ll catch a cold.” Another blue sticky note was plastered on the green box. Tears kept flowing. Too much clichés in one day, yet he was so used to it. He started wondering how many sticky notes were still left hidden. Kyungsoo probably found some while he was cleaning. Sehun hoped the elder didn’t throw them. He would really love to read those post-its himself. Even though most of them just constantly reminded him of how much of a moron he was. Even though most of them were just perpetual reminder of what he had lost.

Sehun walked, groggily, towards his room, hesitantly glancing at the door down the hall. It looked normal, just minus the usual scrambling accompanied with curses spoken by a clumsy giant. He shook his head, turning the knob on his door.

It was five o’clock at night or the afternoon. He really could point out.

The sun sets.

*****

“Chanyeol-ah! Come back!” His mother’s voice echoed inside their house as he ran down the street.

Park Chanyeol, yet again, skipped another art lesson from his grandfather. Don’t get him wrong, Chanyeol loved his grandpa but not enough to suffer two hours of listening to how to mold a lump of mud into a cup that he would probably just break two seconds after. He was from a family that was well-known for their art. His grandpa was once a great ceramic artist. His father was a painter. His mother was a curator. His sister was in college, studying fashion design. Chanyeol, the youngest and only boy, was different. He liked music. He liked movies. He planned to go to Seoul Arts University and study about directing musicals. His mother said he was just twelve; maybe his mind would change at some point. Chanyeol doubted it.

“Hey.” A familiar voice greeted him when he stuck his head out of the bush he had been struggling to get pass through in the last five minutes. It was the only entrance to his secret hideaway – a vacant lot, surrounded by huge Japanese red pines and cherry blossoms. It was secluded yet refreshing. His friend, Minseok, said it was creepy. Chanyeol thought it was just perfect.

“Hi!” He chirped and hopped towards the boy.

Oh Sehun. A transferee. A few years younger than he was. The boy had black hair that turned into a beautiful shade of brown under the sun. His eyes were shaped like the crescent moon and always looked sleepy. His nose was a little too big, and a little too round yet looked almost perfect. His lips were thin and looked weird when he smiles. His cheekbones looked flat yet protrude whenever he laughs. His arms and legs were scrawny and pale. He looked sick sometimes. Chanyeol found everything about the boy adorable.

“You’re gonna be my little brother!” He declared the first time he found a random boy in his secret hideaway. The boy just frowned in protest yet didn’t say anything. He laid his hand in front of the boy, and was disappointed when the younger just frowned even more and answered his gesture with a disgusted “What is that?” He just grinned and replied. “It’s called a handshake. We hold hands and shake them.” He grabbed the boy’s hand and exaggeratedly shook it with his own. “Nice meeting you.” The boy just chuckled and muttered. “What a dork.”

“Skipped your class with Grandpa Park again?” The boy asked, eyes fixed on his little device he called an _ipod_. Sehun said it was gift from his father for his birthday. Chanyeol bet it was expensive. Sehun just shrugged and offered to share his earphone. “You’re gonna be in trouble again when you get home.”

Chanyeol just grinned. He could imagine how his grandpa’s face would be when he gets home for dinner. “He’ll be okay.” He even added.

Sehun just shook his head, thinking of how Park Chanyeol was older than him. Park Chanyeol was an over-grown five year old. He was too tall for his age, yet too childish to be twelve. His hair was jet black and just plain boring. His legs were too long for his brain to reach, making him the clumsiest person ever walked on the planet. His eyes were round and always twinkling. His lips were pink and a little plump. His nose was just in between pointed and round but nicely shaped. His skin was fair and turns red after a few hours under the sun. His voice was constantly drifting from deep to cracked – puberty the elder would say. Sehun thought Park Chanyeol was a little too goofy looking.

Park Chanyeol, apparently was also very smart. Like book smart, not life-smart. He was the top student in his grade level and could play various instruments while solving mathematical equations in his head. Sehun was the total opposite. He was too lazy to do anything that was related to the word _school._ Anything that included numbers and letters made his head spin and his stomach churn. He transferred from Seoul to Gwangyang because of his father’s business. Sehun hated everything about Gwangyang – except for Chanyeol and Soccer. He went to school to play soccer and went straight to Chanyeol’s secret hideaway to play with the elder.

A white line of lightning cracked the dark sky. A droplet of water felt wet cold on the tip of Chanyeol’s nose.

“Hey it’s raining. We should go home.”

Thunder roared.

“I am home though.”

“What?”

“This is our backyard.”

“Okay?” Chanyeol muttered, sarcastically with a hint of disbelief.

“Let’s go!” Oh Sehun smiled, eyes turning into slits, and grabbed his wrist, dragging him into what seemed like an endless pathway towards a house that looked a lot like a castle. The house was made of bricks and had a huge mahogany door. The porch fence was in between the shade of black and gray, adorned by what looked like a climbing rose – dawn and dusk rose and clematis. The windows were as big as the front door of their house. Chanyeol knew that Sehun was rich, but he never really expected that his best friend owned a castle.

The air smelled cold and thick as the rain pounded harshly against the roof. Chanyeol tried to ignore the humidity and how his hair started feeling a little too stiff for his liking and focused on how warm his finger felt inside the pockets of the oversized pajamas he was wearing. The butler, Mr. Go, said the pair was owned by Sehun’s older brother.

The creaky, heavy mahogany door opened. Chanyeol stretched his neck. He tried to smile but ended up looking a lot like he was constipated.

“You okay?” The boy in blue and red plaid pajamas raised his brow.

“And you said my life is boring.”     

“Don’t judge. I don’t buy my clothes.”

“You look a lot like you’re in your twenties.”

“At least I don’t wear spongebob underwear.”

Chanyeol’s argument suddenly became invalid.

“Don’t judge.” He replied, mocking Sehun’s tone.

Laughter suddenly filled the entire room, harmonizing with the pouring rain and roaring thunder. Chanyeol thought it was amazing. How Sehun’s laugh sounded so perfect and heartwarming on a rainy Friday night. How the boy’s pale skin created a beautiful contrast with the dim light and constant flashing of lightning. How the boy’s tiny eyes were making him feel all stuffy yet fluffy inside. Chanyeol thought Oh Sehun was amazing.

“Here.” Sehun handed him a box, sloppily wrapped with a red gift wrapper and a very random blue-ish ribbon on top. Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he should take the box or not. Sehun could be a little bit of a prankster. “It’s my gift for your birthday you idiot.” The younger clarified when he saw the look on Chanyeol’s eyes. He didnt blame the elder. The last time he gave him a box, there was live spider inside it and Chanyeol went home crying. Sehun didn’t have best friend for a week.

“My birthday’s not until next week?”

“I know. It’s thanksgiving in America and my Hyung is there. Mom and Dad want to visit him for the holiday. We’re gonna be there for about a week and a half.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol mumbled sordidly, almost a little too disappointed that the boy wouldn’t be there with him to celebrate his thirteenth birthday. Chanyeol just bit his lip, trying to form another smile on his lips. His efforts didn’t go to waste, yet the smile just made his eyes looked like he was about to cry. He focused on the box in his hand and started slowly unwrapping the package. He really didn’t know why, birthdays had always been a big deal to him. Maybe because his birthday was the only day he felt special.

“Sehun-ah.”

“Mmmm?”

“Promise me.”

“Yeah?”

“On my next birthdays, we will celebrate it together. All of them.”

The boy chuckled, grabbing his hand and forcibly sticking his pinky finger out.

“I promise.” Sehun whispered as he entangled his and Chanyeol’s fingers together before they sealed the promise with a hug. “Now open your present.” He added as his hand rested on the elder’s shoulder.

Chanyeol screamed, making Mr. Go barge into Sehun’s room with a fire extinguisher in hand. Sehun just laughed as he pushed the old man out. “We’re okay. We’re okay.” He even added. “Chanyeol-hyung is just happy.”

Oh Sehun gave Park Chanyeol his first video camera. Chanyeol hugged Sehun and jumped around and landed on Sehun’s soft bed.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen a bed with a roof.”

“You really are an idiot hyung.”

Mr. Go checked up on them around eleven o’clock at night. Chanyeol’s long legs were halfway off the bed. Sehun was sleeping soundly, holding on to Chanyeol’s arm as if it’s his lifeline.

*****

“Chanyeol-ssi”

Chanyeol jumped at a sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Nobody really knew him in their university and his friends were not exactly discreet enough to just tap his shoulder and call out his name. They would usually either punch him, trip him, or take his glasses and run away – making him trip over and bump into everything and everyone as he chase the thief. He was not entirely sure why but he seemed to be the new subject of every pranks his friends made that year. The year beforewas Joonmyeon. One time Jongdae and Kyungsoo tricked him into joining a musical. “You’re just gonna be a tree. You’re just gonna stand there and do nothing.” The tree apparently had to dance every time it would hear music. Jongdae and Kyungsoo disappeared with his clothes after the performance. Sehun wouldn’t stop laughing as they took the bus home. Chanyeol was only wearing a robe. Good thing it was summer. He found a box of cherry Danish, along with his neatly folded green sweatshirt and jeans at his doorstep the next day. He would bet his life it was from Kyungsoo. Jongdae didn’t have a decency to apologize for anything.

Chanyeol scrunched his nose, thinking of the pranks his friends had set up for him.

“Chanyeol-ssi” The voice called out his name again. The voice was not familiar yet not strange. It was accompanied by a thick accent he had very well heard before. Zitao had it, so did Luhan and Kris. Chinese. The voice was also very shy and a little raspy. Chanyeol somehow found it very amusing. He craned his neck and was met by a familiar face. Standing there was an elder boy, with awkwardly short light brown hair, scrawny arms and eyes on the ground. The elder was holding a small bag in hand and was sporting a shy smile.

“Yixing right?” He cocked his head. “Zhang Yixing-ssi? From the dance department? Sehun’s ex?” He asked just to make sure.

The Chinese’s eyes looked like they were gonna pop out as his fingers twitch and waved his hands, a little to exaggerated, in front of Chanyeol.

“No no no no. That was a misunderstanding.” Yixing murmurs, looking at his feet again. “I only went with Sehun to practice our routine for our assignment. It wasn’t like that with me and him.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol chuckles. “I’m sorry. I think scared you that night then?”

Yixing just profusely shakes his head. “No. I just uhm .. “

“Mmm?”

“I’m just really shy and not good with people. Especially..” The elder trailed off.

“Especially?”

Yixing just stood in silence, contemplating if he should keep talking or just run away and throw himself off a mouth of a very active volcano. His heart thumped erratically in his chest as his fingers fondled the strings of the small bag he was holding. He saved up half of his paychecks for it. He didn’t really make much from teaching kids in a small, shabby, dance studio in Jongno. His rent ate up more than half of his biweekly paychecks and the bills weren’t really helping either. Yixing was not really sure if he should still continue with his plan. Zhou Mi, his boss, would definitely kick his ass if he didn’t.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “Just .. uhm .. here. Congratulations.” He shove the small bag into Chanyeol’s chest, making the taller clutch his gift before Yixing managed to run away in a very disturbingly quick manner, cheeks flushed.

“Congratulations huh?” A familiar voice made Chanyeol, for the second time in the last half hour, jump. “I think that guy has a crush on you.” The familiar voice even added with a chuckle.

Chanyeol just elbowed the smaller man beside him, making the younger groin, sporting a very fake hurt expression. “He’s just congratulating me. We don’t even personally know each other.”

Kyungsoo just looked at him with mock written all over his round eyes, making Chanyeol feel a little uncomfortable. The younger wasn’t really much of a prankster; he was far too gentle to be one – even though everybody knew that they should distance themselves when Kyusngoo was mad. On regular days, Do Kyungsoo was very placid and usually the only sane one in their group of friends. He would usually be the one to remind everybody of how a normal human being should actually act – that Chanyeol should not chew with his mouth hanging open, that Baekhyun should stop practicing until the wee hours of the night, that Jongdae should quit being an idiot for a few seconds, and Sehun to stop screwing his life around.

“Sure he was.” The younger mumbled sarcastically. “What is he congratulating you for then?”

Chanyeol stood frozen for a second. He really didn’t know what to tell Kyungsoo. It was supposed to be a secret, something that should never be brought up. Chanyeol wasn’t really ashamed of what he achieved yet it also wasn’t something that he would like to flaunt. It was actually quite a big of an accomplishment to be honest. Only one students from the whole film department could get what Chanyeol got yet he refused to acknowledge it. He only joined the contest for the challenge, and constant bickering from his Advance Directing professor – Choi Siwon, a tall, muscular and very skinship motivated guy. He never really thought that he would win.

“Nothing.” He just shrugged and tried to drift his attention to the small gift bag he was holding. There was small card hanging loosely on one of the strings. The word _congratulations!_ was neatly written on it, followed by some scribbles that looked like Chinese characters that Chanyeol couldn’t seem to comprehend what exactly meant. Inside the bag was a bunch of crumpled green and white tissues and a musical snow globe with a boy under a tree, holding a camera. Deep down the bag was also a note, written on a small paper with delicate patterns drawn on the sides for its border.

“I didn’t know what to get for you but the snow globe just reminded me of you as soon as I saw it. Sorry it’s not much.” Chanyeol read out loud.

Kyungsoo snapped his fingers, eyes twinkling. “Yep! Definitely an admirer!”

“Kyungsoo-ah!” Deep voice whined.

“What? Just saying.” Kyungsoo just chuckled and averted his eyes to the word written on the small card hanging on the bag. It looked very distracting and had been calling his attention. “Seriously though, what is he congratulating you for? I want to know so I can be happy for you too. Maybe I’ll cook something special tonight. We’ll celebrate!” The younger even added, voice grazed with excitement. Kyungsoo loved celebrations.

“I told you it’s nothing.” Chanyeol lied. “Just a small contest in the filmmaking department. I got the first prize.” That part was not a lie, except for where he said that it was just a small contest. Kyungsoo refused to believe the elder. Chanyeol had this habit of looking at different directions while unconsciously swaying body when he’s either nervous or lying. Sehun told Kyungsoo about it one time when the boy decided to randomly go downstairs to Kyungsoo’s and Jongdae’s shared apartment, curl up into Kyungsoo’s bed and started talking about random things that very much included their goofy giant of a friend, Park Chanyeol.

“You know you will never make it as an actor right?” Kyungsoo chuckled, snatching the snow globe from Chanyeol’s hand and gently shook it. A very calming music started playing. Kyungsoo was very much familiar with the tune – it was the song in one of the games Jongin was playing, The Legend of Zelda was the name or something like that. He decided to hum along with the globe as he stared at his friend. He started wondering why Chanyeol was very hesitant about telling him his own achievement. Usually, the elder would jump around in circles and scream on top of his lungs while shaking whatever, or whoever comes in his arm’s reach. “Chaneyol-hyung. Is something wrong?” He finally asked, bothered by how the elder’s usually playful eyes looked much worn out.

Chanyeol just stared at Kyungsoo for a moment. It might seem really stupid but he really wasn’t sure what to do. He decided to talk. Maybe Kyungsoo could help him. Kyungsoo had always been good at helping him out with his petty miseries. Kyungsoo was also the only breathing person that knew about his decade old crush on his best friend. Mr. Go also knew about it, the old man passed away after they graduated middle school. Maybe Kyungsoo could really help, although he already knew to himself that his first decision wouldn’t really change anymore.

“Remember that digital film I was working on where I asked you, Jongdae-hyung and Baekhyun-hyung to sing a few tunes for?” Kyungsoo nodded with eyes again, plastered on the snow globe. “I submitted that for my entry for the Film Festival that was held last week. I won.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widened with every word that escaped Chanyeol’s lips. Every syllable rung inside his head as his heart burst with joy and overwhelming mix of every single emotion he could think of at the moment. Their university’s Film Festival, with what he heard from Chanyeol, was an event the Film department held every three years around late October. It gave the students chances to explore more things about filmmaking. The event usually consisted of conventions, booths, free food, games, and competitions. The biggest one was of course, filmmaking wherein the student would be the whole production team – the writer, the director, cameraman, the stage and costume designer, musical director, everything – the only exception would probably be the characters in the short movies. Kyungsoo remembered Chanyeol disappearing for a few days working one _something_ the younger never really told anybody about – not even Sehun, which was totally bizarre. Nobody asked any more questions. And Chanyeol, their giant goof of a friend, Park Chanyeol, won the biggest competition in the Film department.

“Are you serious?!”

Chanyeol nodded.

Kyungsoo, literally, jumped towards the elder, muttering incoherent sentences. Chanyeol guessed the younger was reciting the recipes he would cook to celebrate Chanyeol’s win. It made Chanyeol feel a pang of guilt in his chest.

“Kyungsoo-ah.” Chanyeol gently pried the overly excited boy hanging onto him off him. “I didnt accept the award.”

The younger’s outburst suddenly went cold, as well as his round eyes. Chanyeol almost wanted to dig a hole right where he was standing just burry himself in there forever. He already figured he would get the exact reaction if he told his friends about what he did. The exact reason why he decided to just keep it a secret. He was a nobody in their university anyway, he was pretty sure that there wouldn’t be any rumors about it. Zhang Yixing, giving him a congratulatory gift, was totally out of his calculations.

“Why?”

“Because I can’t.”

“Why?!” Kyungsoo’s voice climbed an octave, it made Chanyeol flinch.

“Because accepting the award would mean accepting the prize that came with it.”

“What prize?”

“A scholarship at La Femis.”

“The fuck is that?”

“In France Kyungsoo. And you know I can’t ..” Chanyeol’s voice cracked as he trailed off. “You know I can’t .. “

Kyungsoo’s jaw clenched, eyes turning darker with every second. Chanyeol wasn’t surprised. The younger was never really a fan of his martyrdom. Kyungsoo cared a lot about his friends, but he cared about Chanyeol the most. Not because the elder was a little too dumb and naïve for his age but because Park Chanyeol was very selfless especially when it came to Oh Sehun. Kyungsoo thought it was ridiculous. Don’t get him wrong, he loved Sehun the same, but really, Chanyeol’s altruism towards his best friend was just really stupid.

“Why?!”

“You know my reasons Kyungsoo-ah. Sehun needs me. I’m the only one he has left. I can’t leave him. He needs his best friend.”

Kyungsoo let out a bitter chuckle, filled with anger and disappointment. “That’s not being a friend Chanyeol.” Chanyeol flinched at the lack of honorifics. Kyungsoo had always been very well mannered. “For fuck’s sake! Sehun is an adult and can take of himself! That’s being a fucking lovesick puppy that would sacrifice everything for his stupid idea of romance. It’s pathetic.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes averted from the snow globe to Chanyeol. It made the elder lower his head, breathing in every word the smaller boy spoke. It hurt. It hurt very much. He knew Kyungsoo was right yet he refused to acknowledge that fact. He knew very well how much he was sacrificing yet he refused to accede that one day, everything might just be for his stupid idea of romance. Chanyeol chose to retaliate. He chose to create a façade that maybe he could use against the younger’s words that wounded his already injured heart and ego.

“It’s not, okay! You don’t know anything!”

The younger’s eyes got even darker, hands slowly curling into fists. If Chanyeol just wasn’t pretending some sort of martyr, trying to prove his point, he would’ve already fallen on his already shaking knees. Who said he wouldn’t make it as an actor? He thought he was doing rather well keeping up his façade. Chanyeol chewed his lower lip. Kyungsoo was right, it was pathetic.

Things happened unexpectedly. Kyungsoo’s eyes started falling.

“You’re wrong Chanyeol. Very wrong.” The boy sobbed, eyes darting somewhere up the colorful sky. Sunset suddenly became a little too dramatic. “I know. Because Jongin would do the same thing for me. He already did. Romance really is pathetic.”

Kyungsoo walked away. Chanyeol would usually find it very amusing how the younger walked into the setting sun yet the he couldn’t seem to lift whatever was making his whole being so heavy. He knew Kyungsoo was right. Chanyeol didn’t care. Chanyeol’s decision would never change. Chanyeol would never leave Sehun.

Again, things happened unexpectedly.

Unexpected things could change the future.

Unexpected changes could alter an unyielding decision.

A love sick puppy’s stupid idea of a romance really was pathetic.

_“Left, alone, in the loneliness,_ _so confused, so broken. Dark clouds pass, so unforgiving. What will I do now?”_

A familiar tune played from this thing he called an ipod. Chanyeol didn’t have to bet anymore, he knew it was expensive. He got it the past year for his birthday.

The word _birthday_ made him release a dry chuckle. A word filled with clichés and broken promises.

It would take him about eleven hours to get to Paris, he should sleep.

****

  
  
[>>](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12939.html)


	4. sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<<](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12718.html)

_ Chapter III: Nostalgia _

2016.11.25 Friday Seoul, South Korea

Oh Sehun had always dreamed to be a dancer – performing in front of a crowd, hearing the applause of his audience, swinging his arms and legs along with the music as it gracefully flowed through his veins, sinking through every fiber of his being. He had always wanted to learn ballet and jazz, he had seen Jongin do it and it was one of the most beautiful panorama he had seen in his entire career – which didn’t actually last very long. He wanted to learn how do a grand pirouette, a ballotté, and dance steps he could never even pronounce correctly. He had tried those before, yet not as perfect as he would want it to be. Jongin said he had an amazing footwork and it would only take some practice. Sehun thought it was ironic. He had to quit school a month after Jongin invited him to take ballet classes for the next semester.

Sehun’s family was all about business, vehicle engineering to be exact. Dancing was never part of the plan. His father had always had this vision of him, and his elder brother, leading Oh Engineering. His brother took automobile engineering and moved to the USA to further his studies. Sehun was forced to at least take something he could use in the business. His father somehow decided to start an architecture company when Sehun was about fifteen. He tried bringing up dancing once, in a family dinner hundred year old chandelier imported all the way from England, his father suddenly started slicing his medium rare fillet mignon with a little more force than he actually needed, his mother almost choked on her cherry tomato and his elder brother just grinned.

“Sehun-ah, you will take architecture.”

It was neither a suggestion nor a command. It was a statement. And in the Oh household, his father’s statements are the law.

Sehun just sighed. It was a shame that it took him a few years and a heartbreak before he could finally break out of his father’s grip. He was disowned yet he never really cared. Maybe he should really thank Luhan. The doe-eyed Chinese really helped him find his own person, only to lose it after losing something he thought would always be there. Something, someone he really never paid attention to, yet he couldn’t live without.

“Sehun-ah.” A soft hand was placed on his shoulder as he tried to shove his favorite black shirt in his already full luggage. “Are you really sure about this? Do you want us to go with you?”

He just nodded. “Yes, hyung I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I mean .. I don’t want you to travel that far .. alone .. I-“

“Soo.” Jongin called out the fussy Kyungsoo as he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and shook his head. “I believe Sehun knows what he’s doing.”

“But-“

“He’ll be okay Kyungsoo-ah.” Joonmyun, who was silently sitting on the hardwood floor, picking on the grey shag rug in the middle of the room, sighing continuously. “He needs to do this by himself. He’ll be okay.”

_Thank you._ Sehun mouthed, looking at the elder’s worried eyes. He knew Joonmyun was also apprehensive yet he understood Sehun’s decision better than everybody else did. Joonmyun was the only person that actually treated him like an adult. Everybody started babying him after an incident that happened a year and a few months back that he would really rather not talk about at all.

The elder just smiled at him. Kyungsoo finally stopped fussing and just helped him pack, making sure that he got everything he needed, especially in his medicine bag. Jongin just kept his focus, watching every single show on TV for at least five seconds. Baekhyun and Jongdae were there yet both were unusually very quiet, munching on the month old chips they found in the pantry. Minseok was also there, making him more uncomfortable than he already was. Minseok and he were never actually close. His relationship with the elder was more of a _common friend_ situation – something he really couldn’t explain. Sehun also thought it was ridiculous how it took them a few years before they could actually be complete again, well partly. They will never be complete again and Sehun would blatantly blame himself.

“Hyung, I should go. I don’t want to be late for my flight.”

Goodbyes were exchanged as his Hyungs hauled his luggage out of his apartment building to the taxi that had been waiting for him. Sehun refused to let anybody send him off to the airport, yet was forced to at least let one of them – he chose Jongdae just so he wouldn’t be bored on their way – to help him carry his luggage. He thought it was kind of annoying how they wouldn’t even let him carry anything over five pounds, it was ridiculous. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t die if he carried a luggage filled with a week’s worth of clothes and some knick knacks that Kyungsoo forced him to bring.

“Dont forget to take your medicines. Call me whenever you can okay? Or text me. I don’t really care, just contact me in any way you prefer.” He really wasn’t sure why but Kyungsoo was almost bawling his eyes out as the elder hugged him before he got in the car. He even had to roll down the window when the elder knocked and handed him a small notepad – containing the schedules of when and how to take his medications in CEST. “Take Rilutek at 8am after breakfast, and take one more at 8pm after dinner. AND NO CAFFEINE AND ALCOHOL. NO BUBBLE TEA. Take one valium before you go to bed and flexeril when you start feeling spasms.” Sehun stopped. The list was too long and he could almost hear Kyungsoo’s voice nagging at him all the way from their apartment complex.

The fact that Jongdae was looking at him with sad eyes wasn’t really helping him either. The fact that his friends were treating him like he was some sort of imbecile wasn’t helping at all. He understood his friends perfectly anyways; he just didn’t like the feeling of being so helpless. He couldn’t even lift a stack of paper once. One time he fell on his face and didn’t even have a chance to catch himself. It was as if the world was denying him his own freedom. It was as if slowly, the world was robbing him of his everything. He was barely even in his mid twenties and he already felt like he was holding onto a very thin string he once called life.

His flight number was called, Jongdae finally left without saying a word. Jongdae was an asshole but Jongdae also wasn’t stupid. Jongdae understood. Sehun sent a message to Jongdae before the elder completely disappeared in the crowd.

“Thank you.”

Jongdae just waved at him, didn’t even bother to turn around.

He pulled out a small device, he called an ipod, from his pocket. A hyped beat started playing as he watched how the clouds danced along with the wind in the beautiful blue sky as if they were trying to match the music he was listening to. It was too ironic. It almost made him want to cry. He used to dance along those beats. He used to gracefully move his arms and legs along with the tune.

He checked the watch that was wrapped around his left wrist. The scar had been long gone yet the watch had become a habit. He still had about five hours before he had to take the next dose of his pills. It would take him about eleven hours to reach his destination. He should sleep.

*****

2016.11.26 Sunday Paris, France

A soft knock was heard from Chanyeol’s door, making his eyebrow raise. It was four o’clock in the afternoon and he really didn’t expect anybody to knock on his door at that time of day, neither at any other time actually. Paris was a very weird place. It was already hard for Chanyeol to find friends in Korea, and it was even harder in a foreign country. Plus the fact that his schedule was always full – he had to juggle his time between classes, his internship, his part time job at an Asian store in the middle of nowhere, and babysitting his neighbor’s kids – twins named Kardy and Cheru, and it was weird enough that the elder one fell head over heels in love with Jongin after he had to do a skype call with Kyungsoo while babysitting the kids. He was actually thankful that his scholarship covered everything he needed for school and his lodging, yet he still needed money to keep himself from starving and freezing his ass off on winters. It was quite a challenge yet Chanyeol preferred burning his time with work and school than slack off and think about things he shouldn’t even bother himself with. That Sunday though, was one of his very rare day offs.

He was forced to haul himself from the couch he was lazily laying at, reading a book he randomly picked up at his university’s library – _Shot by Shot_ was the title, a book with an intense blue cover. He was actually a little pissed at his _visitor_ because he was too engrossed with the book and didn’t want to be disturbed. He was even thinking about pretending not be home if he wasn’t just such a nice person.

_“Qui est-ce?”_ He yelled, a little too loudly than he would’ve expected. His French was surprisingly improving yet he just couldn’t seem to cover up his accent. _“Qui est-ce?”_ He repeated, just because he liked hearing his own voice speaking a language that sounded so fancy. He thought French sounded like poetry complimented with incredibly elegant syllables. He slowly turned the doorknob, without even checking the peephole and was greeted by the cold autumn wind. There wasn’t anybody there, at least that he could see. Chanyeol started freaking out, maybe it was one of those spirits he once heard the other tenants of talked about before. The apartment building was pretty old and he really wouldn’t be surprised if there were any ghosts lurking around the area.

_“Qui est-ce?”_

He asked once more and he almost jumped over the railings across his door when he felt a hand grab his left leg. “Holy fuck!” He exclaimed as he slowly averted his eyes to the hand that was tugging on his black and white plaid pajamas. His world suddenly stopped spinning, his racing heart stopped beating, he would really rather see a ghost.

“Hyung. Can I have some water?” A scrawny, pale boy was crouching right beside his door. A black snapback was covering his hair and half of his face. His overly thick black winter coat was neatly folded on a gray luggage sitting right beside the boy. “And please don’t tell Kyungsoo-hyung you saw me like this. He would freak out.”

The boy weakly smiled at him, eyes filled with excitement and enthusiasm. The smile looked very eerie. His crescent eyes turned into slits like they usually would yet the way his lips curved looked very weak and frail. His breathing was a little too deep and a little too slow than usual.

“Sehun-ah.” He mumbled as he bent his knees and helped the younger up. The boy felt almost weightless. He was too thin and too gaunt. His skin was incredibly pale and his eyes were almost bloodshot. “Are you okay?”

The boy just nodded. “I just need some water, I forgot to take my pi-“ The younger paused. “My vitamins and probably just need some rest too.” Sehun grinned. “You know jetlag.”

Chanyeol just stared at the boy. He really wasn’t sure what to say or what to feel but he knew that the state the younger was in was definitely not jetlag. Chanyeol had once been naïve and dumb but not anymore. He had grown up and he wasn’t that gullible anymore. He would ask questions, but not yet. Sehun looked a lot like he was going to pass out any second. He dragged the younger to the couch he was occupying, pushing aside the book he was reading and grabbed the blanket that was loosely lying on the floor. He ran to his small kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Here.” He muttered and handed the bottle to the younger.

“Thank you.” Sehun sounded almost like he had some trouble speaking. It definitely wasn’t his lisp. Chanyeol was pretty sure Sehun got rid of it a long time ago. “And can you grab the red pouch hanging on my backpack for me please?” Chanyeol did what he was told and his eyes almost jumped out of its socket when Sehun started fishing amber bottles of medications from the said pouch.

_Riluzole_

_Cyclobenzaprine_

_Carisoprodol_

Medicines he had never heard of before.  Medicines he had never seen the younger take before. The last time he checked, Oh Sehun was a very healthy boy. The only reason the younger would go to the pharmacy was to get his monthly prescription of Epipen for his tree nuts allergy, sometimes also for Chanyeol’s cat fur allergy. But then again, the last time he checked was about three years ago. Chanyeol refused to hear any information that had anything to do with the Oh Sehun. Although he couldn’t really avoid the fact that there would always be a Baekhyun and a Jongdae, sometimes a Jongin too, that would loudly gossip about other people in the background whenever he would call Kyungsoo or Minseok on his free time. He had heard how Oh Sehun was finally getting his shit together and trying not to fail every class he took. He had heard how Oh Sehun made up with Luhan and became friends with the elder Chinese again. He had heard how Jongin, Minseok and Oh Sehun joined a dance competition and won. He had also heard how Oh Sehun once ate too much cashews and almonds; he had to be sent to the emergency room to prevent anaphylaxis. What an idiot. Chanyeol almost ran back home.

“Yah! Park Chanyeol! Stop being an idiot!” Kyungsoo yelled at him all the way from Seoul. “I swear if you came home right now I will kick your ass so hard you’d fly back to Paris.”

Chanyeol just sighed, watching Oh Sehun peacefully sleeping on his old, worn out couch. The boy had been sleeping for about two hours and he really wasn’t sure if he should wake the younger up for dinner or just leave him be. He really didn’t have to contemplate when the boy’s eyes fluttered open, eyes tired from his nap. Chanyeol wanted to run.

“Morning.” Sehun mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust from the awfully bright, old chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“Six thirty.”

Sehun’s eyes shot wide open as he dig through his pocket and fished his half dead cellphone. Fifty eight missed calls, seventy six text messages, all decorated with his friends’ names.

_Pororo Hyung_  
Pororo Hyung  
Pororo Hyung  
Trolldae  
Pororo Hyung  
Joonmoney  
Pororo Hyung  
Joonmoney  
Pororo Hyung  
Bacon  
Bacon  
Trolldae  
Baozi  
Pororo Hyung  
Pororo Hyung  
Pororo Hyung  
Kkamjong  
Pororo Hyung  
Kkamjong  
Pororo Hyung  
Pororo Hyung  
Luhan-hyung  
Pororo Hyung  
Pororo Hyung

And the list just went on. Sehun almost cringed when he opened the last message.

“HOLY FUCK OH SEHUN. WHERE IN HELL ARE YOU? CALL ME IN FIVE MINUTES OR I WILL SELL JONGDAE IN THE BLACK MARKET TO BOOK THE NEXT FLIGHT TO PARIS AND HUNT YOUR ASS DOWN AND DRAG YOU BACK TO KOREA AND I SWEAR I WILL MURDER PARK CHANYEOL AFTER!”

“You should call him.” A familiar, deep, baritone voice he had missed so much rung in his head. It sounded so pleasant and calm, almost like music, almost like those tunes he used to dance along with. “I don’t really want to die yet.”

“I don’t too.” Sehun forced himself to not drop the comment. Instead, he just grinned and shook his head, feeling a little dizzy with every move. “I don’t think I would want to talk to him right now. I’ll just text him and call Joonmyun-hyung later.”

Chanyeol just watched Sehun as the younger typed something on his pone, eyes slightly squinting every time the small device would vibrate. He was pretty sure Kyungsoo was still flooding the boy with calls and messages, probably also got Jongin right beside him, doing the exactly the same thing. Jongin had become a lot like Kyungsoo and it was almost like having parents fussing over all of them everyday – even though Jongin wouldn’t really be a good parent material, he would be the kind of parent that would let you drink beer at the age of three and buy you the whole McDonalds dollar menu. His eyes went from the boy’s awfully skinny fingers to the younger’s pale face. His used-to-be flat cheekbones were then protruding even when he wasn’t smiling, his eyes were twinkling yet reddish and had bags that almost covered half of his face under it – the boy definitely looked terrible. And bright red bush atop his head wasn’t helping either.

“So since when did your hair-“ The boy’s head quickly shot up, eyes looking straight at Chanyeol, making him stop in the middle of his sentence.

“What about my hair?”

“Nothing.”

Sehun just raised his brow. “Go ahead, say it. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard worse.”

Chanyeol just shrugged, almost giggling. He knew his friends and he was pretty sure all of them were very creative when thinking of insults. Jongdae once said it was god-given talent, only special people had it. He just walked back to his fridge and grabbed something from the freezer – a popsicle stick that he usually used to pacify the kids he was babysitting. A smile curved his lips as he slowly, tore open the package and handed the ice cream to Sehun.

“Strawberry popsicle. Very creative.” Sehun chuckled and took the popsicle in his mouth. “but not as clever as Jongdae-hyung and Zitao.”

“Uhuh?”

Sehun nodded. “Zitao once went with me to Gangnam and we passed by Mcdonalds to get some lunch. He made me sit at a certain table and started taking pictures of me. The next think I knew, he had my pictures on his weibo account and edited my face in some Mcdonalds advertisement shit.” The boy licked his ice cream and cocked his head. Chanyeol suddenly felt a little too warm on a winter night. “Jongdae-hyung mentioned me in one of his speeches.  _Our futures are bright, but not as bright as Oh Sehun’s hair_.” The boys added, mocking Jongdae’s voice, face scrunched in disgust. “You guys are horrible. I swear.”

Chanyeol shook his head, trying not to laugh out loud and make the boy feel even worse about his bright red hair. He was more than sure the boy already had enough puns made about his hair.

“Well why did you dye your hair that color then?”

“Byun fucking Baekhyun.”

The said name was more than enough for Chanyeol to lose his control, deep, baritone laughter filling the small, tacky apartment.  He had to sit on the floor just too keep himself from falling on his face as his laugh suck out his entire energy. Five minutes later, he was lying on the carpeted floor, barely breathing with a bunch of throw pillows scattered around him, courtesy of Oh Sehun. The younger started throwing whatever he had at arm’s reach at Chanyeol as soon as the giant started cackling.

“Why the hell would you listen to Baehkyun-hyung about hair color? Did you already forget? The last time you listened to him about your hair, you ended up with some sort of greenish lump on your head and you had to suffer for about two weeks because the stylist refused to dye your hair again in such a short time because it would kill your scalp.”

“I know that. Thank you very much. Fuck you by the way.” Sehun threw another pillow at him. “I lost in a bet okay.”

Chanyeol finally regained his consciousness and decided to sit up with his long legs crossed, head leaning on the edge of the couch Sehun was laying down on. The boy unconsciously reached for his short, brown hair and playfully twiddled his fingers with the soft strands. The gesture was very familiar, it almost made Chanyeol cringe. It reminded him of the late movie nights they had, the random _I’m hungry I want ramen_ nights that would usually end up in a _I wanna cuddle in the couch_ _until I feel like it_ nights too – Chanyeol wanted to run, yet the familiar tingling feeling in his stomach was keeping him in place, savoring every second he had long missed.

“Sehun-ah.” Chanyeol finally spoke, with eyes half closed. “I heard you quit school. Why?”

Chanyeol remembered the time when Kyungsoo told him that Oh Sehun quit school. He said he would talk to the boy, finally after two years, and make him continue his studies but Kyungsoo just stopped him. Joonmyun even said that he should just let Sehun do what he wanted; the boy had his own reasons. Chanyeol never really dwell into it that much, he didn’t have enough time to do so nor did he have enough courage to talk to the boy again. He was afraid he would come running back to Seoul once he hears the younger’s voice. Chanyeol was a coward.

“You knew I quit?”

He nodded.

“What else do you know?”

“Just that. And whatever the others felt like telling me, also what I hear from Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s gossips from the background.”

He could almost see Sehun smirking behind his closed eyelids. It was stupid how much he knew the boy that he could guess how the younger would react without even looking at him. They had been friends for almost a decade, something very complicated for a couple of weeks, and something he really couldn’t explain for about three years – it was already given he would know even the tiniest habit Oh Sehun would have.

“I had to quit.”

“Why? Did they kick you out? Were you failing?”

“No. I was on the top of the class actually. I kicked Jongin’s ass in our finals. Teacher Hyukjae was so proud. He even asked me if I wanted a job at his dance studio.” Chanyeol’s eyes flutter open, catching the smile that lit up Sehun’s pale face. “I would have been a dean’s lister by the end of the school year.”

He almost wanted to give the younger a smack in the head if just not for the very comforting feeling the hand on his head was giving him. Maybe the boy was doing it on purpose, knowing that being pet was one of his weaknesses. He just ended up shaking his head, making him earn a gentle tug on his fringe telling him to stop moving. His hands were tucked under his legs, keeping them from responding to a certain urge to touch the boy’s hand. Why was it such a very hard task?

“I had to quit because my body doesn’t want to listen to me anymore hyung. I can’t dance anymore.”

Chanyeol’s heart started beating erratically; his thoughts started wandering to the worst corners of his imagination. It was awful, yet not a single word was spoken. Quitting school was one thing, but not being able to dance was a totally different matter. He had known Sehun since they were ten and the boy had already loved dancing ever since. The first time they met, the boy was dancing along some tune that only Oh Sehun could hear. The way the boy’s scrawny arms and skinny legs swayed along the spring wind, cherry blossom petals moving gracefully around the boy’s body as if they were dancing long with him. Chanyeol though it was breathtaking, literally. He really didn’t notice that he held his breath until the boy flicked the bridge of his nose.

“Yah! What the hell?!” He yelled.

The boy just chuckled, tiny eyes twinkling as they disappeared into thin lines. “You’re a dork you know that right?” The dancer turned around and took a seat under the Japanese red pine and closed his eyes. “I’m Oh Sehun by the way.”

“Park Chanyeol.” He just muttered, still a tiny bit close to being dumbfounded. Sehun would always rub on his face how ridiculous he looked the first time they met – with traces of paint and mud on his plain white shirt and face, black fuzzy hair sticking out in every direction. Chanyeol couldn’t say anything. Sehun definitely looked perfect, almost godly, that day. Oh Sehun always looked flawless in Park Chanyeol’s eyes.

“I have ALS. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. I was diagnosed almost a year and half ago, I didn’t really tell anybody because I thought I would be okay. The doctor said it was still treatable if I would just take some rest, follow the therapy and take my pills. But you know me.” Sehun shrugged. “I never listen. I kept dancing, missed a few pills, never took any rest because I wanted to catch up with school. I never really cared until one day, I was practicing some ballet stunts with Jongin and I fell. I had no idea how. I just fell. My left leg was numb for a week, I couldn’t do anything.” Chanyeol heard a sob. It woke him up from the shock that quickly ate up his whole being. He moved to the couch and lay down beside the crying boy as he snaked his arm around his frail shoulders, rubbing random circles on the thin arms. “That’s when everybody found out. Everybody was so mad at me for not telling them anything. Joonmyun-hyung was the only one that understood why I did it. Kyungsoo-hyung would cry every time he would see me. Jongdae-hyung didn’t even see me until I could walk again. He said he couldn’t because he was busy. Baekhyun-hyung said Jongdae-hyung locked himself up in his room the whole time. It was awful you know. I thought I wouldn’t be able to walk anymore. Then apparently Minseokkie-hyung contacted my brother and they brought me to specialist. I was able to walk again. But it doesn’t really matter. I can never dance anymore hyung. I cant .. I just .. I’m still breathing .. but I .. I feel so dead.”

Chanyeol’s heart broke into tiny pieces, along with Sehun voice that faded away into sobs that pierced through his system. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to punch everything, fate preferably. He wanted to pray and ask questions – how, why – but he wasn’t sure where to start. He wanted to tell the boy that it would be okay, that everything would be alright and that _Hyung is here you’ll be okay_ but no. He knew to himself that it would never be okay and that hyung was never there. He thought it was almost too ironic how the movie report he did a few months ago was about _Jenifer_ , a movie about a girl that was diagnosed with ALS. He knew what the disease could do. He knew how important dancing was for Oh Sehun. He knew that what the younger said was right, Oh Sehun was still breathing but he was already dead. He remembered one of his professors saying “One way to kill a character without stopping them from breathing or ripping their heart out is to keep them from doing what they love. For example, make singer get into an accident that would damage its vocal cord.”

Park Chanyeol’s world suddenly stopped spinning once more. He once said he liked character deaths in movies, he thought it was romantic, but wasn’t making movies anymore. He wasn’t just interpreting the script his writer wrote for him, nor was he just editing the videos he shot. He wasn’t just creating motion pictures from his imagination, his best friend was real, Oh Sehun was real, and he was in Chanyeol’s arms, shedding tears caused by his own death. Chanyeol then realized that character death in real life was very far from romantic. It was awful. It was obnoxious. It was excruciating.

“Sehun-ah.” He cupped the younger’s cheeks and tried to wipe the tears that was consistently flowing from the pair of crescent eyes, only to fail when the boy’s tears just doubled when their eyes met. He wanted to cry too but he chose not to, even his tears were almost screaming to roll down his cheeks. He wouldn’t cry. He had to be strong for both of them. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me about this so I can help you?”

Sehun just bit his lips, bloodshot eyes wavering. He almost didn’t want to answer.

“Because you weren’t there hyung. You left me.”

Chanyeol was not strong enough. He never was. Even the sky started crying. Thunder roared. Lightning cracked the dark, winter night sky.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could say as he kissed the younger’s tears away, literally. Repeating the same set of words over and over again as if it could turn back time and undo the choices he had made. “I’m sorry Sehun-ah. Hyung is here now okay?”

There was a weak nod. And there was a chase kiss placed on cracked lips, stained by tears brought by sadness and regret. It was sweet yet so bitter. _Angst_ was the term his Chanyeol’s professors would choose to call it. Chanyeol would just use _sad_ , simple yet agonizing.

“What happened to us Hyung? Why did you leave me?” A question was dropped right before crescent eyes fluttered closed and drifted back to sleep.

Chanyeol just closed his eyes, thinking of misconceptions, clichés, and broken promises. It was too nostalgic it hurt.

*****  
  
>>


	5. sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<< ](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/12939.html)

_Chapter IV (Final): Obnoxious_

One fifty six in the morning. Chanyeol really couldn’t remember when was the last time he went home that late from hanging out with a friend. His nights would usually just be occupied by work, his homework, Sehun’s homework, or him, looking like a spring roll in the middle of winter – wrapped up in the Pororo comforter Kyungsoo gave to all of them the past Christmas – eating a bowl of ramen and either bawling his eyes out over some dramatic film he would find on Netflix or laugh his ass out over some rerun of whatever variety show was on TV. On very rare nights, Sehun would come home early, with a red box dvd in hand or a new game the younger stole from Jongin’s stash. Those were Chanyeol’s favorite nights. It hadn’t really happened a lot in past few days. The boy had been out of the house almost ninety percent of the time. They would only see each other in school, sometimes at that bubble tea shop across their university where Jongdae worked at. Chanyeol felt very lonely – Kyungsoo was avoiding him like a plague, which would also equal to Jongin not hanging out with him, Baekhyun and Jongdae were both busy with the upcoming winter musical, Joonmyeon was somehow out of the planet lately and have been acting rather weirdly, and so was Minseok. He once thought something happened between the two, he just never felt the urge to ask. He was actually almost half way through his routine; he just added a few matches of league of legends and some Mario kart and he really didn’t know what got into him and he just found himself dialing the phone number he found written on the note that came with the congratulatory gift Yixing gave him. The elder was very shy and timid, although not bad for a company on a Friday night – way better than being a couch potato and feeling bad about himself and how he did not have a life until the wee hours of the night.

Hanging out with Zhang Yixing wasn’t really that bad, although half of the time was spent in silence accompanied by awkward sighs and fiddling of fingers. He did learn a few things about the elder. He learned that Zhang Yixing apparently also liked music like him, that the elder also wrote some songs when on his free time. Yixing also had this nickname – Lay. Chanyeol also found out that Yixing falls asleep very easily when the elder just randomly dozed off during their bus ride home. They both missed their stops and had to walk back. It was also quite funny how Yixing just lived a few blocks away from their apartment. With just a few hours of spending time with the elder, Chanyeol just concluded that Lay would make a really good friend – a listener, somebody he hadn’t had in quite a while. Kyungsoo was more of a nagger than a listener, MInseok would usually just get distracted by a tiniest thing, he wouldn’t even want mention Jongdae and Baekhyun – those two were just horrible in personal conversations, he wasn’t close enough to Joonmyeon and Jongin, and Sehun, that boy just stopped listening to anybody a long time ago. With Yixing, it seemed like he found the comfort he had been longing for. It was almost like Yixing’s company was giving him the solace he had once lost, along with the random cute boy he found dancing in his secret hideaway ages ago.

One fifty seven in the morning, he was still looking for his keycard that somehow decided to not be in his pocket that night. He was about to fish his cell from his back pocket when the doorknob suddenly turned and a familiar face was just inches away from his, brows raised, eyes almost disappearing into slits. He knew that look. Truthfully, it was freakier than Kyungoo’s eyes almost bulging out of its sockets. Chanyeol wanted to run.

“Welcome home.” The tone was too cold, it made Chanyeol shiver. “Step inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

Chanyeol did what he was told, only to feel colder when the younger just walked past him. Sehun’s cold shoulder could battle Antarctica’s, it was ridiculous. It reminded him of getting trapped in a huge freezer on a winter night – which totally didn’t happen to him in person; just don’t ask Minseok what have they’ve been doing in their neighbor – Kim Ryeowook’s ice cream factory on the Christmas eve of 2003.

“Sehun-ah?”

“What?”

“You’re home.”

“So?”

“It’s Friday.”

“Your point is?”

The silence was almost deafening. Sehun refused to talk and the face Chanyeol was making was just too amusing for him. He had been avoiding the elder the past few days for reasons he really couldn’t explain himself. He just felt like he should give his best friend some space. He had been sleeping over at Zitao’s, sometimes at Joonmyeon’s for almost a week until he got tired and decided that space could go fuck itself, and maybe swim in a pool of lava after. He missed his own bed, and so as the giant that could snore like a hippo until daybreak.  He spent about an hour trying to bust Jongin’s door lock, mixing up number combinations, until the idiot inside him realized that maybe he should try the day between Kyungsoo’s  and Jongin’s birthdays. It was too cheesy that he had his nose scrunched when he heard the familiar click – telling him that he could walk into Kim Jongin’s studio apartment and grab whatever game he felt like taking so he could spend the whole night laughing at how Park Chanyeol sucked at every single video game ever existed. He also almost begged Kyungsoo to make food for him right before the elder started getting ready for work. In Sehun’s head, everything was going to be perfect. He got movies, games, and food – everything he needed to keep him and his best friend entertained the whole night. The only thing he didn’t check was the fact that his best friend actually had a life, and that Park Chanyeol’s world didn’t revolve around him – Do Kyungsoo’s words. He even remembered a _“What if he left you? What if he decided that you’re such an asshole and he can’t stand you anymore?”_ and a trail of more what ifs that came after Sehun’s mind started wandering in dark places he had never really thought about – places with no round, sparkly eyes, awfully styled hair, extremely long limbs, obnoxiously deep laughers, terribly huge ears – places without Park Chanyeol in it. Sehun’s tears almost fell. What had he done?

Oh Sehun lied. He perfectly knew why he tried to stay away from Chanyeol. Kyungsoo finally snapped at him and rubbed on his face how much of an asshole he had been ever since the day Luhan cheated on him. It was quite an eye opener to be honest, especially that black eye he had after the very _calm_ conversation he had with Kyungsoo. Sehun was hurt when his heart got broken, but Chanyeol was the one that suffered the most. The elder was always there whenever Sehun would feel like crying. Chanyeol was there when he got a tiny bit stupid and decided that life was not such a paradise and that he should just end his own. Chanyeol was there when his wrist was covered in crimson liquid, life slowly fading away. Chanyeol was always there whenever Sehun would need somebody to pick him up whenever he would fall down. Chanyeol was always there when Sehun needed a ride when he got so wasted he couldn’t even open his eyes, slurring incoherent words that usually ended in how he hated the world.  Chanyeol was always there, asking for nothing in return. Chanyeol was always willing to do anything for him, yet Sehun failed to see it. It made Sehun feel like he was the most horrible best friend ever walked on the planet. Maybe he really was. How he wished he could turn back time.

“Sehun-ah?”

“You left this on the counter. Were you such in a hurry to go wherever you went to?” Sehun handed Chanyeol his keycard and almost smack his head on the nearest wall when he realized what just happened. Sehun almost snickered. Chanyeol still hadn’t changed; the elder was still as dumb as cork and as naïve as the boy with an awfully awkward pair of long legs and round eyes he met decades ago.

“How did you know I was at the door?”

“I don’t know. I just did.” He shrugged. Not that he was checking the peephole every ten seconds.

Chanyeol grinned, turning Sehun’s coldness into a puddle of goo and fluffiness that started rolling around their two bedroom apartment. Sehun could never stay mad at Chanyeol nor could he pretend to be mad at the elder – it was just impossible like how Chanyeol could never say _no_ to him. He really wasn’t sure how it happened but he found himself, and his giant of a best friend, cuddling in their velvet couch, watching some sort of movie Chanyeol managed to hijack from the library’s system. It was this old film that was made by a student named Kim Kibum ages ago. He was actually about to beg for Chanyeol to turn the movie off if not for the familiar faces that flashed on the screen – Kim Heechul, Park Jungsu, Lee Hyukjae, Choi Siwon and some other professors from other departments. Sehun thought it was hilarious, and made a mental note that he should mention the film the next time he sees Professor Kim.

“Sehun-ah.” Chanyeol snuggled to the crook of Sehun’s neck. It made the younger shiver.

“Mmm?”

“Why were you mad at me?”

“I wasn’t. I was just.” Sehun paused, licking his chapped lower lip as he started playing with his best friend’s hair. “Disappointed. Disppointed that you weren’t home when I got here. Disappointed that I actually thought you would always be here waiting for me. I was disappointed when I went to the bus stop and saw you with Yixing. I was disappointed .. ” He trailed off, wavering, focusing on everything else except Chanyeol. “I was jealous.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol was speechless, it was the first. “Really.”

“I mean you know, I’m aware that your world does not revolve around me. And I’ve been a huge asshole ever since that _Luhan thing_ and I’ve been neglecting you lately. But Hyung, I swear, I haven’t forgotten about you and I appreciate every single thing you’ve done for me. And I really have no idea what am I gonna do without you.”

“I won’t leave you. I promise.”

Chanyeol sighed, making Sehun froze. There was a sudden jolt of electricity that flowed through his system as soon as Chanyeol’s breath lingered on his skin, creating some sort of dance party in the pit of his stomach. And as soon as their eyes met, something inside him exploded. Everything suddenly became a little too stuffy, making the pair snuggle closer to each other. A tornado of thoughts and sensations circled his whole being as his heart started thumping. The feeling was strange yet very familiar – something he had been feeling since forever but been ignoring the whole time. The feeling was familiar yet very frightening; the kind of feeling that would make him want to flip the universe and dance with Martians.

“Sehun-ah.”

“Yeah hyung?”

Words started dancing on Park Chanyeol’s tongue, almost like every single letter of the alphabet just decided to swirl around his brain. Characters and symbols crowding his thoughts, heart racing as he slowly drowned in his pit of hidden emotions and unspoken feelings.  It was almost like that night, that night when a pair of crescent eyes bore through his soul as his whole being shivered. It was almost like that night when a pair of chapped, alcohol soaked lips brushed on his making every bit of fiber in his body ache. Chanyeol wanted to run yet was paralyzed when the same pair of crescent eyes fluttered open, making time stop ticking. It was almost exactly like that one night yet everything was different.

Oh Sehun was very coherent. The fear and sparkle that was cavorting in Park Chanyeol’s eyes was almost too visible. The heavy breathing, consorted by an irregular rhythm of hearts quickly synchronizing into one was almost too apparent.

“Stop thinking Hyung and just do it.”

It was when a husky voice whispered to his ear along with fingers tracing the contours of his cheeks down to his jaw, Park Chanyeol concluded what was different. It was when the same pair of chapped, not alcohol soaked lips, brushed on his one more time, Park Chanyeol realized that it had always been different. It was when a tug was felt on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, Park Chanyeol thought that maybe, just maybe, it was a good kind of different - his best kind of different.

“Sehun-ah, I love you.”

A decade of clandestine emotions and unspoken words, summed up in a sentence that was lost in gentle clashing of lips and racing hearts.

“I know.”

It was when childhood best friends decided that they were both too overdressed as quivering hands started to ache for more bare skin to caress, Park Chanyeol realized that it really was a good kind of different. It was when low groans and moans echoed in their used to be just laughter filled apartment, Park Chanyeol discerned that yes, it was his best kind of different.  
  
A/N: smut part goes to [](http://blacmeissa.livejournal.com/profile)[**blacmeissa**](http://blacmeissa.livejournal.com/)

Sehun’s addicting taste lingered in his mouth as Chanyeol’s desire filled gaze swept over the younger. The ache to worship his milky skin with his hands, lips, tongue or whatever else he could think of pulsated through his veins till him and his member couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling their hips together, their clothed erections rubbed against each other, igniting fireworks of emotions he felt for the one he loved. He heard Sehun gasped before he grabbed both of his cheeks and kissed him fully.

“I love you” slipped in between the elder’s lips again before Chanyeol deepened their kiss. And he meant it, Sehun was beautiful, he deserved the love and passion Chanyeol was about to instill in the younger’s lithe body. Thin arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his own dark tresses.

“Sehun-ah.” He whispered but the boy on the receiving end‘s senses were clouded with lust, he didn’t seem to hear. Tongues were seeking entrance; soft, wet sounds filled the apartment and fingers somehow ended up beneath Sehun’s shirt. Parting for air, the younger’s breath hitched when Chanyeol’s fiery touches trailed across his stomach and chest to press and stroke against hard nipples. Soft sighs escaped and he wanted to reap more of those, within minutes his lover’s shirt was on the floor and his chest assaulted sensually.

“Hyung.” came a drawled out moan.

Sehun tilted his head back , hands burying in the elder’s hair again. Chanyeol’s own lips pulled at his nipples for a last time before peppering soft kisses up to the newly exposed skin. Biting down one red mark was followed by many more. If Jongdae was to see crimson spots it would be an endless amount of teasing for the younger but the film student didn’t care. Sehun was his, not any of the guys he slept with and they would know now that they couldn’t touch him like that anymore.

“Hyung…I..I” Chanyeol heard him whisper in between gasps. “I’m sorry.” But the elder didn’t want to hear apologies, only responses to his neck being lavished.

“Don’t be” he muttered and soon Sehun’s pants were casted aside on the couch, he was hoisted against the door, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pressed against him in another bruising kiss.

“ Hyung” Sehun said in a normal voice but Chanyeol didn’t listen.

“Hyung” but Chanyeol continued kissing him.

“HYUNG WILL YOU LISTEN FOR ONCE!” Sehun yelled and smacked him hard as his wide eyed elder stepped back with a whimper. “Why am I the only one naked?” Sehun asked pointedly, glaring at the other’s fully clothed body.

Chanyeol wanted to facepalm, no hit himself against the door for getting caught up and forgetting that

“Oh right!” and in his haste to rid himself of his clothes, he almost dropped Sehun. The younger sighed and placed his hand on where Chanyeol was about lift his shirt.

“Silly hyung, I’m supposed to do that.”

The bedroom door creaked once more with two naked bodies pressed against it and the muffled moans echoed once more until Chanyeol opened the door, Sehun stopped him one more time.

“No hyung, this is my room.” The memories of his heartbreak and the stupid things he did in there to forget it still haunted that room. This was different, he didn’t want his lover mingling in the past after all the hurt and pain it caused him. “I want to do it in your room.” He smiled and Chanyeol understood.

Seconds went by before Sehun was pressed against the sheets of Chanyeol’s bed, teeth nipping at pillowy lips and their hands explore each other. Sehun let out a soft cry, feeling him suddenly being prepped. His whole body writhed with torturous pleasure on the bed, the more he moaned the more fingers he got inside him. Chanyeol felt his waist being straddled and knew his dongsaeng arching beneath him needed more than just slick fingers and crushing assaults in his lips.

His lover’s body flushed like the colour of his hair and body shimmering in sweat, from the look in his glossy brown eyes, he knew that Sehun was ready but still out of care , he stroked Sehun’s cheek.

“ Sehun-ah are you su…”

“Yes I’m sure hyung” the other breathed cutting him off.  “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“ I’ll be careful “ Chanyeol pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Do whatever hyung.”

Thighs were quickly parted and his hips brush teasingly against the boy on the bed. More writhing, eager hands grasp the bed sheets and the teasing rubs continued. He bit his lip holding back his moans, and then watched himself grab his slim waist and disappear in between those parted thighs little by little. Sehun arched off the bed once more, intense pleasure rushing through him.

“I love you.” He moaned long and low.  “Sehun-ah” came the deep baritone voice. Bending over to bury himself in the other’s neck, his dark hair receiving a few pets, their movements started off slow and gentle. He wanted the blush pink boy to become accustomed to the feeling. Their purrs filled the room before it became a frenzy of thrusts and pants. Chanyeol couldn’t hold back his deep moans. He didn’t think anything could have felt this good, he was making love to his best friend and the way Sehun’s body responded to his thrusts there was nothing more amazing. The pleasure rippling from their stomachs to between their thighs was the only thing that mattered, the bad feelings were gone.

“Hyung” Sehun’s lust filled voice called to him. “You bubble pop better than HyunA.”

Chanyeol raisesd his head from his neck at pecked at his lips for the comment. “I’ll… take that..as.. as a compliment” he panted as the sliding of skin continued.

Sehun was a nightmare yet he was the best thing that ever happened to him. He hoped silently that from what they were doing, Sehun would feel the love that he harbored for him after so long.  He never imagined at the start that their hips would be rolling against each other or that he would ever get the chance of enjoying Sehun’s heat or skin like this. This was much better than the first time because Sehun was here moving against him and moaning along with him.

He thought it was a dream until Sehun clawed at his back, eyes open and he knew he was in reality. “I’m…” the younger had no time to continue as the older’s thrusts became harder and more intense working to bring his lover to the end. He wanted it to last as long as it could but it would be impossible.  Then again Sehun was his now, they would have all the time in the world for more sensual romps. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stroked Sehun’s erection and continued pushing down hard and fast as he could. Feeling a pair of arms encircle his shoulders and legs straddle his waist in a painful grip, he filled his close friend for the last time. A new kind of life found reflected in Sehun’s eyes as his orgasm spread through his body and his release spread on their chests. Maybe it was the new life he would now experience with Chanyeol.

The fiery passion still licked at Sehun’s body and he didn’t unwrap himself until it cooled off. Chanyeol kneeled above him, still connected inside of him.  His lover’s face was the same shade as his hair, he panted, pale chest rising and dropping slowly. He looked almost like an angel.  He closed his eyes, spread his legs around the elder’s waist once more and began thrusting against Chanyeol. “You didn’t come hyung.” He whispered rising to slide up and down Chanyeol’s cock in his own sexual trance. Sighs of pleasure and Sehun’s name escaped his lips like a prayer.  Sehun’s tongue moistened his bottom lip and he curled his own around it. He felt the urge to come approaching, clenching his stomach he tried to ward it off in order to enjoy the boy moving erotically on him but in the end it was too much. He grabbed Sehun’s hips pressing it on his erect member, a drawled baritone moan escapes down Sehun’s throat and his release stained the bed sheets.

*****

  
[>>](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/13703.html)


	6. sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<<](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/13306.html)

_Chapter IV-2 (Final): Obnoxious_

_A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world._

_\- Oscar Wilde_

2013.11.27 Wednesday Seoul, South Korea

Woken up by a smell of burnt pancakes and a familiar voice booming through every nerve in his eardrum, Chanyeol groggily shot up from his surprisingly empty bed and ran towards the kitchen. There was Kyungsoo, with a Jongin – looking almost exactly like he did, still in pajamas, soul still in dreamland – and a Jongdae frowning at everything, muttering something like _“It’s six o’clock in the morning. Why do I have fuckers for friends?”_ , in tow. His eyes slowly wandered around the kitchen, grimace starting to creep up his sleepy self as he looked at the fire extinguisher Youngwoon gave them for Christmas, sitting right beside a grinning Sehun with a burnt apron wrapped around his waist.

“What the fuck?” Deep, raspy voice echoed in the kitchen.

“Well good morning to you too.” Sehun turned to him. “I made you breakfast”

Chanyeol wanted to run. A stack of what looked a lot like flat coals with butter on top and soaked in some sort of sticky syrup appeared under his nose, making him choke as the smell of burnt breakfast assaulted his senses. His nose scrunched as he tried his hardest not to run into the bathroom and barf whatever he ate the night before out in the toilet. It was very hard, especially with a snickering Jongin that for some reason managed to find some solace under the table, lying down as he held onto Kyungsoo’s ankle like it was his lifeline. _Why do I have fucker for friends?_ Jongdae’s silent mutterings started playing inside his head, creating some sort of a taunting chant he wished would make the poisonous thing in front of him disappear and he was more than thankful when it did and was replaced by a pair of soft lips pressed on his, followed by grunts from across the kitchen.

“That’s your breakfast. Since Kyungsoo-hyung said the pancakes I made are probably not edible-”

“I bet.” There was a side comment, quickly followed by Sehun, flinging a burnt pancake across the kitchen – landing exactly on Jongdae’s face. “Fucking hell.” The elder muttered as he ran to the bathroom, probably to throw up and clean up the syrup stuck on his face.

“Continue.” Chanyeol smiled as he placed another peck on the smirking lips in front of him. “Also why are we having this meeting?” His eyes went to Kyungsoo, who was busy trying to pry his ankle off Jongin’s grip.

“Well, let’s just say that your boyfriend is a very excellent chef and decided to roast the whole kitchen – which he would be banned in, by the way, until he gets to fix everything he broke.” Kyungsoo just shook his head. “Seriously, I really don’t know what am I gonna with you two.”  With that, the younger left, dragging Jongin – literally – who still refused to let go of his boyfriend’s ankle.

“Five thousand won and Kyungsoo will kick Jongin’s face before they even reach the elevators.”

“Ten thousand won. Kyungsoo-hyung will throw Jongin off the stairwell and use the elevator to go to the next level just to wait for Jongin and kick him in the groin.”

“Call.”

“Call.”

A deal sealed with a kiss. A little too cliché yet both didn’t mind. Shared by two wandering hearts, unconsciously beating as one, who would mind? Shared by two wandering souls that found serenity in each other’s arms, why would they mind? Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning wasn’t part of the cliché yet the fluttering of wings inside collided bodies, as hands wandered slowly, caressing an expanse of pale skin and curly, dark brown locks was lingering through every fiber of their being. Caramel brown eyes, fixed on a pair crescent shaped ones as they both grasped for air – lips swollen - speaking words of affection.

“I love you.” Three words, embedded by millions of emotions, answered by a bright smile, protruding cheeks, and eyes turning into slits.

“Ugh you guys are gross I swear. I have to deal with this with Kyungsoo and Jongin at out flat and now here too? What the fuck?” Jongdae, looking like a wet baby duckling, emerged from the bathroom only to rush back in again. “Get room!” Elder’s voice hollered, followed by a string of curses and some muffled sounds, something close to throwing up.

“This is our apartment you fucker!”

“Well don’t just go and make out when you have visitors. That shit is gross.”

“Stop bitching and just go to Baekhyun hyung if you’re jealous you don’t have anybody to make out with.”

“Byun Baekhyun? Really?!” Jongdae again, emerged from the bathroom, face smoldered with what looked a lot like constipation and dysmenorrhea. “You’re fucking disgusting Oh Sehun.”

“Thank you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I have Chanyeol for that.” A smirk.

“Oh my God. Whatever. Goodbye. I hope I never see you two again. Tell Kyungsoo I’m going to Joonmyeon’s. At least his place his normal.”

Chanyeol just chuckled as he watched the door close behind Jongdae. Chanyeol just chuckled as he thought about how his life was almost perfect. Chanyeol just chuckled as he wrapped his arms around thin waist, drawing random patterns on the hip bone as he pulled the boy closer. Chanyeol just chuckled as Kyungsoo’s words echoed inside his head – _boyfriend._

He remembered reading on the internet about how perfection was just an idea. That perfection could be defined by however the way people wanted to look at it, that every person had their own version of perfection. And Chanyeol suddenly thought maybe, just maybe, that this was his version of perfection. It took a lot of tears, courage, and heartaches yet Chanyeol thought everything was worth it. He had everything he was dreaming of. Chanyeol thought everything was perfect.

Yet dreams end once the dreamer wakes up, and perfection was just an idea.

Four thirty seven o’clock in the afternoon. Chanyeol woke up from his nap, surprised to find the other side of his full sized bed empty. There was no blush pink hair tangled in his fingers. There was no scrawny, pale, body in his arms. There was no Oh Sehun beside him. Instead, there was a bright orange sticky note stuck on his forehead.

_“Had to go out real quick. Be back for dinner. xoxo_ _♥_ _♥_ _.”_

Chanyeol felt like giggling like a school girl. He was about to get up when he felt something vibrating under his pillow, more like Sehun’s pillow since he somehow managed to use up the whole bed. Sehun’s white, mobile phone somehow ended in his hands as his fingers did some sort of tango and some ballet over the screen – contemplating if he should mess with the younger’s phone. He knew Sehun’s phone passcode by heart.

“Don’t use your birthday. You know our friends they can all guess that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can I use yours then?”

“Too obvious.”

“How about this?” Chanyeol’s heart stopped as a smirk slowly crept up Sehun’s lips.

“How- You still-“

“Of course. Why? You already forgot?”

“How would I? I cut my finger trying to carve that on a tree.”

Two kids, one ten year old and the other one eleven – both wandering, looking for some comfort they couldn’t find at their own home. Two boys that found happiness in the company of one another decided that they should carve their names on the tallest Japanese red pine tree in their secret hideaway to preserve their friendship they both swore would last forever. The elder, with awkward long legs, round eyes, and loud voice decided that maybe they should include the date of when they first met.

“July 28 2003. They day we first met.”

Chanyeol punched in the numbers and the white phone stopped vibrating. It was a reminder. _Call Pororo Hyung. Ask to make dinner._ It made him laugh. Sehun had been weirdly, organized that day – scheduling everything from breakfast to everything else. The nap they both took wasn’t really part of _Sehun’s plans_ but he managed to convince the younger when promised it would only take a few minutes. He was about to put the phone in his bedside drawer if the text messages that were flashing on the screen didn’t catch his attention.

**Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:17pm]:** Sehun-ah. Luhan ge’s at the emergency room. The hospital called me. I’m all the way in Qingdao. I don’t think I can go back until tomorrow. I know it’s too much to ask but can you please check up on his for me?  
 **Handsome Oh Sehun [3:18pm]:** Where’s Kris?  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:18pm]:** Long story. It’s not my place to tell you.  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:20pm]:** Please? Sehun-ah?  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:22pm]:** I’ll buy you a year supply of bubble tea.  
 **Handsome Oh Sehun [3:27pm]:** Make that a year and a half. Plus free lunch once a week.  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:27pm]:** Do you think I shit money?  
 **Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]:** Going once.  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:28pm]:** I’m broke.  
 **Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]:** Going twice.  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]:** Fuck it! Deal! Just make sure he’s fine. Okay?  
 **Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]:** Thank you. I know this is not easy for you. Chanyeol will probably not like it.  
 **Handsome Oh Sehun [3:31pm]:** He doesn’t have to know. I’m leaving now.

Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself walking down a very busy hallway, plain white walls, air stale and smelled like antiseptics. There were people walking around, some in white coats, some in hospital gowns, and some in regular clothes.  Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself asking the lady, in white dress, behind the counter in one of the nurses’ station for bed number of a boy named Luhan.

“Mr. Luhan is in bed 21. It should be down this hall and to your right.” The lady smiled at him, as she pointed to the white washed hallway in front of him.

“Thank you.” He muttered, smiling, yet eyes wavering from nervous to doubt.

Chanyeol took the path the lady told him too. It was too bright and too long yet he silently wished that it was longer when he his eyes quickly widened as tears streamed down his cheeks. Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning, and fluttering wings must have been really too cliché for him. Perfection maybe really was just an idea. Maybe perfection really didn’t exist. Japanese red pine trees could probably last forever but not the words and numbers carved on their trunks. Dreams really did end once the dreamer woke up.

Sehun’s lips were pressed on Luhan’s.

“Dean Park. I’m taking the scholarship.”

“Okay? I thought you didn’t want it. Why the sudden change of heart? Something happened Chanyeol-ssi?”

“Unexpected things can change unyielding decisions.”

“That’s deep. Also, call me Leeteuk.” A chuckle was heard from the other line. “I already got your a plane ticket to Paris a long time ago. You can leave anytime you want. ”

“I want to leave tonight if possible.”

“Okay. Are you packed? I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“Thank you.”

On the way out of the hospital, the gift shop looked a little to interesting. There were stuffed toys, lots of them, jewelries, bags, candies, even ice creams. Chanyeol left with a stack of blue sticky notes two red sharpies, and a recipe book.

_“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France._ ”

Chanyeol looked the plane ticket in hand, eyes lingering on the date written on the far left corner of the sheet.

_2013.11.27_

“Happy birthday Chanyeol-ah! I miss you!” Says the text his sister just sent him before he decided to leave his mobile phone, along with Sehun’s, on the kitchen counter right on top of the recipe book he got.

_“Learn how to cook.”_ The letters were big, and red on the blue sticky note.

He started chuckling as tears freely rolled down his cheeks once more, memories about a certain promise made a long time ago stabbing his whole being.

_“Promise me.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“On my next birthdays, we will celebrate it together. All of them.”_

_“I promise.”_

Chanyeol really wasn’t sure who to blame for the broken promise. Was it him? Or was it the boy he once dreamt of perfection about? Would it be worth it to blame? To get mad? To hate?  He wanted to do both yet he couldn’t seem to feel anything. It was just all emptiness, shallow emptiness, graced with untreated wounds and covered up scars slowly creeping up every fiber of his whole being.

_“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France._ ”

A love sick puppy’s stupid idea of romance really was pathetic. Perfection really didn’t exist. Dreamers did wake up. Everything was just a ploy that fate decided to play on him. All that left was emptiness, nothing else.

*****

2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea

It was that time of the year when Chanyeol couldn’t distinguish if it was still spring or was it already summer. The sun was too hot yet the wind was too chilly. Cherry blossoms were still blooming yet hyacinths were starting to wither. It hasn’t even been a week since he got back to Korea but it almost felt like his life had once again, turned upside down. Cars slowly stuck in traffic as rush hour hit the city; the bus would probably be at least five minutes late.

_“Hey. You should hurry.”_

Two cups of bubble tea felt cold in his grip – one chocolate one taro – felt a little too heavy as a pair of round eyes grazed over a message sent on his phone. Park Chanyeol started wishing that time would stop ticking, and the world would stop spinning as he sprinted his way towards a familiar path towards that huge building in the middle of Mok-dong, ignoring the sticky liquid spilling on his hands and clothes as he bumped into random passerbys earning him a few curses.

The world suddenly became a little too irrelevant when it had been stated how the universe and time would never stop moving for the sake of one. Pretending that life was like fair with endless paths that would all lead to a paradise was almost like being a mocking bird – imitating sounds that was never theirs. It was like chasing a falcon soaring up the sky without realizing that there was a cliff waiting at the end. The world is cruel and obnoxious – a lesson people should learn always chose to ignore. The universe is like an endless cycle of pretending and ignorance, overlooking the fact that maybe the cycle would end somehow beyond the _lather, wash, repeat_ theorems. Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable.

“The doctor said I can’t drink bubble tea anymore.” The pout plastered on thin lips all the way across the world was still clear in his mind. Winter in Paris was the worst yet the burning sensation under his eyelids was causing his eyes to water. “He said it’s choking hazard. What am I? Five?”

“No, but you act like one.” Kyungsoo appeared in the corner, a bowl of soup in hand. “I made you kimchi stew. Shut up and eat.”

“But I want bubble tea.” Sehun whined.

“See, I told you. Five years old.” Wide, sad eyes turned to his direction. Without any words spoken, a message of pleading was sent. With just one look, he knew that Kyungsoo was just trying to be strong for all of them. Both of them knew the truth, all of them did.

_Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable._

Jongin stopped talking about dancing. Jongdae and Baekhyun became a little too chirpy, making lame jokes and pranks every five seconds. Joonmyeon would just sit silently in the corner, watching, listening. Minseok would slouch in another corner, smiling silently as he watched an old friend’s eyes turn into slits as the younger laughed along with the others. Yixing dropped by once with a box of cupcakes. Zitao would come every Wednesday, talking endlessly until the wee hours of the night, keeping his friend entertained. Kyungsoo refused to go home yet was always getting dragged by Jongin as Baekhyun quickly grabbed the stack of plates and cups that slowly accumulated on a small table in the four-cornered room. Luhan and Kris would say _hi_ once in a while – shared some awkward whispers and apologetic smiles. Everything seemed so normal yet so different. From the university’s cafeteria, lunch breaks and weekends were spent in a four-cornered room, with an awfully light green painted walls, and air that smelled like antiseptics.

Chanyeol wanted to cry yet Kyungsoo’s eyes were imploring. _Please don’t._ They said. Jongin’s head shook from the corner as the younger’s eyes wavered from the computer screen towards the pale boy sitting in the middle of a bed, wrapped in a very boring set of white sheets. _Please don’t cry._ Joonmyeon was sitting in the far corner of the room, watching him intently as he forced a smile. The elder just nodded. _Good job._

“Sehun-ah. Listen to Kyungsoo okay?”

_I will be strong. I need to be. For the both of us._

Sehun eyes locked on his.

_I know you want to cry. I’m sorry._

“Okay.”

The video call ended with Kyungsoo forcing a spoonful of kimchi stew in Sehun’s mouth and Jongin whining about Kyungsoo never fed him like how the elder did Sehun. Joonmyeon just threw a pillow in Jongin’s face before the elder bid good bye to help Minseok close the comic shop. And Chanyeol, trying his hardest not to shed a tear as his eyes traveled towards a small screen right beside the bed – red lines curved up and down along with annoying beeping sounds that would always haunt him in his sleep.

“Hyung I want bubble tea.” Were Sehun’s first words when Chanyeol arrived at the hospital, luggage still in tow.

“Yes. Yes of course. How could I forget?” He chuckled, trying to mask the silent tears slowly trailing down his face. “Should I get you one right now?” baritone voice shaky, as he reached for a familiar mop of brown hair he had long missed. A kiss was placed on pale, white forehead. “I missed you.”

“Not yet. Stay with me for now.” The screen said. Chanyeol’s whole being shivered. “Hyung. I love you. I’ve always did. I will always do.”

It was the first time Oh Sehun told Park Chanyeol that he loved him. Sweet yet heartbreaking. He would rather hear those words from the younger, than reading it from a screen, but who was he to complain?

Sehun lost his ability to speak a few months after he went back to Korea. The doctor said the disease progression was faster than what they could have had predicted. It started with the numbness of limbs, quickly followed by paralysis and inability to speak. The boy started wearing oxygen mask in his sleep that was soon ordered to be worn twenty four seven.

“It would help him breathe but I will not help with the progression of the disease.” The doctor, Cho Kyuhyun, even added before he left the room.

“Sehun-ah.” Chanyeol’s voice dithered as air quickly escaped his lungs.

He discerned he shouldn’t chase falcons when he perfectly knew there was cliff waiting for him in the end yet the labyrinth seemed to be calling out his name – maybe it was the mocking bird, copying the cry of his paradise. Or maybe it was just him, pretending that perfection would still exist beyond all the clichés and nostalgias. Maybe it was the dreamer that refused to impede confusing his dreams from reality. It really was him, silently hoping, praying, wishing, that maybe someday, somehow, his dreams and his idea of perfection would turn into reality.

But it was already given that the world is cruel and obnoxious.

A few pairs of familiar eyes trailed him as he mustered a smile and slowly cracked the door open. Women dressed in white, along with Dr. Cho were running around the small, four-cornered room with awfully light green painted walls and air that smelled like antiseptics. Bright red cart, with drawers was sitting right beside the bed. The haunting beeping of the screen made his head hurt yet it didn’t stop him from walking towards the pale, scrawny figure lying on the bed.

“Sehun-ah. I got your bubble tea. Chocolate. Your favorite.”

Tears fell as a hand tapped his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be here Chanyeol-ssi. Please step outside”

Dr. Cho’s eyes lingered on his.

_I will do my best. I will save him. I promise._

There was a nod, followed by silent sob. The labyrinth was slowly falling apart as his dreams and ideas crashed, quickly falling down the cliff. The beeping sound disappeared, replaced by a prolonged monotonous flat piercing sound that pierced his soul.

“Clear!” Dr. Cho’s voice echoed inside his head, as the door closed behind him.

2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea

Park Chanyeol, the dreamer awoke from his dream, lost his idea of perfection and let go of the sight of the falcon. Park Chanyeol, the mocking bird finally surrendered to reality.

  


  
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	7. sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

**Title** : sanctuary  
 **# of chapters** : 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )  
 **Word Count** : 24, 045  
 **Pairing** : ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan  
 **Bands** : EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Warning** : character death | mention pf suicide  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the characters.  
 **Summary** : The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.  
 **A/N** : cross-posted on [AFF](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/497579/sanctuary-exo-sehun-chanyeol-hunhan-kaisoo-chanhun-seyeol)

[<<](http://rodxlyn.livejournal.com/13703.html)

_ Epilogue: Love Letter _

“Cut!”

A deep, perfect contralto voice echoed in the four corners of the dimly lit room. A few pairs of eyes wandered towards the middle of the crowd as tears created trailed down their cheeks. There were sobs mixed with silent murmurs of questions of why and how. The air suddenly felt stale and thick. The silence was almost deafening yet a heartbreaking thud woke up the grieving crowd.

A tall, skinny, man, in his mid thirties was slumped right beside the director’s chair – eyes covered with dark brown fringes and dark rimmed spectacles yet everybody knew the man was the one lamenting the most. A sob was released and the whole room, once again, broke into tears. It was too heartbreaking to watch the man break in front of them. The man’s hand was unconsciously fumbling between the pages of the script he was holding as tears slowly drenched each leaf. His eyes would sometimes wander up the ceiling, as if he could see past through it and watch the clouds dance in the dark night sky as the stars sparkle beautifully in the horizon, creating a panorama that nobody else could produce.

“Director Park?” One of the staff, one of the musical directors – a small man with round eyes, plump lips and puffy cheeks approached the director.  The shorter wrapped his arms around the director as the taller hid his silent sobs behind the younger’s slumped shoulders.

The choreographer, a famous theater dancer and actor with bronze skin and blonde hair, walked towards the pair and settled his left hand on the taller’s shoulder. The way the dancer looked at the musical director was very loving yet engraved with sadness, stained with tears and decorated with unspoken words. Two other musical directors – one with dark blonde hair, elongated face, chinky eyes that were always grazed with blank liner, and pretty hands; the other with brown locks, defined cheekbones, round eyes, and scrawny arms – were standing two steps from the former three, letting their tears roll freely down their cheeks, drenching the collars of their dress shirts. The producer, a small man with jet black hair and milky white skin and very amusing facial expressions was silently slumped in one corner, shaky hands covering his tear stained face. Another small man with cute eyes and puffy cheeks was sitting beside the producer, slowly rubbing circles on the elder’s shoulder. There was also a group of four in another corner, eyes fixed on the director as they spoke a language nobody understood. Some of the staff concluded that it was Chinese. The tallest of the four, a man with blonde hair, pouty velvety lips, and face carved by gods had his arms wrapped around a smaller, skinny, doe-eyed male with light blonde hair as the smaller’s tears created a thread down his bulging cheeks. The other Chinese, a tall scrawny man with brown mop of hair, some of the recognized the man – another famous dancer, international even – was just silently sitting on a couch used as a prop from the scene that was shot the day before, nose red, dimpled smile showing with eyes swollen with tears. The one with hair cavorting between black and dark brown, sharp eyes and pointed nose was just standing there, looking lost in his trail of thoughts, as if reminiscing something very heartbreaking.

“Good job guys. We finished it. You all did very well. Thank you so much.” Director Park choked, baritone voice so broken it almost made the whole room tear into pieces. His eyes ambled around the room, friends, staff, and other familiar faces were spotted albeit the face he wanted to see the most was someplace else. “Let’s pack up.” He added as he tried his hardest to reclaim himself and stand up, smiling his brightest.

It was the third movie he was directing. The first one was mediocre, got a few small nominations but won nothing. It was a science fiction, breaking through some conspiracy theories muddled up with an overly active imagination. The second was an unexpected hit, Director Park actually took the project because of he needed the money – it was story about star-crossed lovers, a little too cheesy for him yet apparently, people loved it. And the third was the most special. It was his masterpiece. If not for a promise he made, he would stop after the third. Third time was the charm as he would say.

_“A film about a dancer that got robbed of his own body, cheated by fate, yet didn’t give up on living. A film about a friend, a lover, that learned to love not only the dancer but also himself. A film about a group of friends that never left each others’ sides as they went through the darkest paths of their lives. A film about the struggles of reality.”_

The front page of the script he was holding read, letters in times new roman, font size 13.

2026.11.27. Saturday. Seoul, South Korea. Director Park’s thirty fourth birthday.

2026.11.27. Saturday. Seoul, South Korea. Director Park finished his third movie.

A film about a boy who got his freedom taken away by his own body. A film about a dreamer, a friend, a lover. A film about Oh Sehun. Director Park’s masterpiece.

A round of applause, accompanied by silent sobs and sniffles, filled the room.

*****

A tall, blonde dancer made his way towards Chanyeol – head held up high, arms swaying gracefully with each step, skin sparkling under artificial lighting. It almost reminded him of that one musical he watched, Chicago. The opening, _All that Jazz_ , played in his head as he watched the younger with a silent wish he would often throw at the universe as he watched falcons soar their way up the horizon. A wish he knew would never be granted. There was no such thing as paradise; dreams would always end once the dreamer awoke.

“Hyung.”

“Mmm?”

“I have something for you.”

A strong pair of arms wrapped around his shoulder, it made him shiver, almost too close to breaking down. His thoughts wandered to places he had been refusing to go to in the last nine years yet having that  familiar warm feeling made the walls he built around him crumble into pieces, engulfing his whole being with all the pent up emotion he had been caging inside him.

“I haven’t seen you cry since-” The younger paused. “since he left.”

Chanyeol pried himself off the younger’s grip, and slumped back to seat, drying each droplet of tears that trailed down his cheek. The warm liquid reminded him of May, the time when he couldn’t distinguish if he should start wearing hoodies or kept wearing shorts and wifebeaters, the time of the year when hyacinths were starting to wither yet cherry blossoms were still beautifully blooming. It reminded him of bubble tea spilling on his hands, and sprinting down the streets of Mokdong. It reminded him of his friends, eyeing him as he slowly pushed a plain, white door open and being welcomed by an awfully painted light green room that smelled like antiseptics. It reminded him of an annoying beeping sound that would still haunt him in his sleep. It reminded him of the beeping sound being replaced by a prolonged, piercing sound that punctured his whole being. It reminded him of seeing how Dr. Cho’s eyes wavered from professionalism to regret. It reminded him of how he stood beside an empty hospital bed for endless hours until Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around him and whispered words of comfort. It reminded him of being lost and empty, like wandering in an endless path of darkness towards a pit of despair and infinite dysphoria.

“Hyung. Let’s go?”

“I thought you have something for me?”

“I’ll give it to you when we get there okay?”

There was a nod, and the next thing he knew, he was already in Jongin’s car, taking the most familiar streets, driving their way towards the threshold of the past he had been hiding from.  His eyes lingered on the familiar pinpad, thinking of the days when he used to worship the sudden turn of the century when locks and keys were replaced by number combinations and keycards – the day when there was a scrawny boy clapping his hands like the happy seal as he watched Chanyeol jumped for joy the first day they moved to the apartment. Everything was still the same, from the black velvet couch to the dark oakwood veneer top table that _he_ bought to replace the one he broke.

“Here.” A dark brown, leather bound book was handed to him. “ _He_ gave this to me and told me to give this to you when _he_..” Jongin trailed, eyes travelling above the small fireplace, where a framed mosaic of pictures of smiling college friends was hanged on the wall. “ _leaves._ I ought to give this to you sooner but I didn’t think it would be a good time. And the whole break up thing with ..” The younger’s voice wavered once more, eyes focusing on everything except for the small man, with round eyes that was silently standing in the kitchen – cooking something that smelled so familiar – kimchi spaghetti.  “With Kyungsoo-hyung. Then you know what happened after. I know I shouldn’t but I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol eyed the younger.  “It’s okay. Can I?”

The moment Chanyeol opened the small book, tears started pouring.

_Oh Sehun._

Never did he think that a familiar, sloppy penmanship would crush his already broken heart.

_“Hyung, if you’re reading this now, it only means one thing. I already reached my end, but please don’t be sad? You know I love you right? So please, don’t cry so much okay? If you cried, I will be sad too. Hyung, Chanyeol-hyung, I love you. Always remember that.”_

Tears started falling as he read every word that was engraved on every page.

_“I love you hyung. I’ve always do. I always will._

_“I ‘m not good with words, and I really have no idea how or where to start. I thought about starting at the beginning, yet I realized I might not have enough time. Maybe I should just start from where it all ended._

_The day I caught the person I thought would treasure me as much as I did him, with someone else._

_The day I thought I lost everything._

_The day I thought I was at my lowest._

_The day I thought that maybe, I should just disappear._

_The day I thought that maybe, it would be better if I just end my own life._

_But then you were there to save me, like always._

_The moment I saw the look in your eyes, my I started rethinking my whole life. What have I been missing? What have I been running away from? What have I been denying my whole life?_

_The moment I saw the way looked at me that night, I thought just for once, I will let go. Just for once, I will let everything crumble and let myself fall in that scary pit of uncertainty I called best friend. Just for once, I let my broken heart took control of me._

_That night when I thought everything felt so broken, you were there to fix me, without asking for anything in return. That night when I thought I have nothing else left, you were there to show that I still had everything I could ask for. That night when I thought everything had fallen apart, you kissed me and reminded that you were the only one I needed to be whole._

_That night, I watched you in your sleep. I thought maybe it could work, and that maybe the fear I had when I was fourteen, when I realized that maybe I love my best friend a little more than I should, was just an empty thought. I thought maybe I didn’t want to act on my feelings because I was scared of losing the person I treasure the most, was just my excuse to not get any more closer to this beautiful fire called Park Chanyeol, and that I was afraid it would burn my whole being. I thought maybe, maybe you loved me too._

_But then the sun rose. The apprehension I saw in your eyes that morning fueled the fear I had been veiling for eternity. I thought maybe I was right, you didn’t love me the same way I did you._

_I wasn’t really sure but it seemed like you were pretending like nothing happened so I did the same. When Luhan cheated on me, I cried, but every time I thought of how you looked at me the morning after just crushed me. I spent my time wallowing in my sadness and regrets, hoping that one day I would forget how it feels like to get hurt, and I did._

_I chose a path I never even thought about crossing before. I met new people as I slowly let myself get swallowed by the very broken part of me. I forgot how pain felt like. I forgot how it felt to be broken. I forgot how to love. I forgot that I was broken. I forgot everything else, everyone else, even you – until Kyungsoo hyung punched me and rubbed to my face that maybe, just maybe, I was the biggest asshole ever walked in the planet and I really was._

_That was when I realized that I never forgot the feeling of being hurt, that I never forgot how to love and that I was still broken – yet I did forget about you. I did forget how you took care of me, how you lulled me to sleep every night and smiled so brightly in the morning and made me a bowl of my favorite cereal, how you would drive at two thirty in the morning just to pick up my drunken self, how you would cross an ocean of lava if I was at the other end. That was when I realized that maybe the thoughts I had that night were all right. That maybe you actually did love me the way I did you._

_And I was oh so right._

_Everything was perfect._

_Until you left._

_I never asked why, I was scared to hear that maybe you left because you didn’t love me anymore, or that maybe Kyungsoo-hyung was right – you would get tired of me. I would hide every time you would call Kyungsoo or Minseok-hyung. I would run, hide, hope that you wouldn’t see me as I watched you from afar, listen to your beautiful voice, and looked at how your eyes would sparkle every time you talked about films. I would try my hardest no to run and ask why you never talked about me. Have you forgotten about me hyung? Jongin would help me sometimes, threw in some comments and mentioned my name yet you would just smile, looked away and changed the topic. Have you really forgotten me? Were you sincere when you told me you loved me?_

_I thought maybe it was me. Maybe I should get my shit straight and be the person that would deserve your love. I fixed myself, I wasn’t broken anymore yet there would always be a piece of me that would never be complete without you. I thought maybe after I finish university and become the dancer I have always dreamt of being, I would deserve to hear the words ‘I love you’ from the you again yet we all know that this world is cruel._

_Right when I thought everything was almost perfect, and that you were the only one missing, this disease hit me._

_It was quite ironic, to be frank. I was finally starting to learn the dance I have always wanted to yet didn’t have the courage to even try out and I just fell, literally, in a pit of darkness I could never get out of._

_I thought it would be okay. I said I could wait, I would wait. It was still treatable._

_But diseases don’t wait._

_The doctor gave me a time limit._

_Three years he said, five years if I was lucky or even ten if I was blessed._

_Three years. Thirty six months. One hundred fifty six point five hundred thirty two weeks. One thousand ninety five point seventy three days. Twenty six thousand two hundred ninety seven point four hours. One million five hundred seventy six thousand eight hundred minutes. Ninety four million six hundred seventy thousand eight hundred sixty five seconds._

_Three years is long, I said.  I could still finish university, learn ballet with Jongin, audition to musicals with Kyungsoo, Jongdae and Baekhyun hyung, I even took the job you left at Joonmyun hyung’s comic shop – it was fun, I got to read manhwas and got paid at the same time._

_Three years is long, I said yet I just found myself falling into another pit of oblivion, even darker than the previous. I couldn’t move my arms and limbs the way I wanted them to anymore. Maybe I wasn’t lucky enough. I lost another precious part of me. I lost dancing, one of the very few things that were keeping me sane._

_Three years is long I said, and yet again, I was mistaken._

_I booked a flight to Paris the day after. Nobody wanted me to go, alone at least but everybody also knew nobody could stop me._

_I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. I wanted you back. I needed you back._

_And you did._

_You may have been all the way across the globe yet I could feel your love like you were constantly by my side. I would ask for more yet I knew I didn’t have the right. You will finish school right? Be the director you had always wanted to become. A famous one, if I may add. You are great with what you do, and never forget your promise okay? You will keep making films; never stop until your heart tells you to._

_I might have not said this enough, but I do love you hyung._

_I love you Park Chanyeol._

_I will write those words in the remaining leaves of this journal because one day, I know, I wouldn’t be able to write those expressions anymore – or even say them._

_I love you Park Chanyeol.”_

“I love you too Oh Sehun. I’ve always did. I will always do.”

The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection – words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.

***** _FIN_


End file.
